Blood and Anesthetic
by kasey8473
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Set in the months leading up to 'The End'. Castiel/Jo Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: My plot bunnies liked the bleak future world in 'The End'. Please be patient for new chapters. I'll do my best to update at least **_weekly_**.

* * *

She hadn't spoken in three days.

Dean Winchester led Jo Harvelle into the camp dining hall and directed her towards the tall urns at one end of the room. One had coffee, the other hot water. Beside the water urn was a wide selection teas. Dean had been surprised at the number of people who actually drank tea. Chuck tried to keep the shelves well-stocked.

Jo looked up at him and crossed her arms, as though she expected him to say something more, but after a long moment, she walked down the center aisle between the tables and made herself a cup of tea. Since when did she drink tea? Dean remembered her drinking coffee -- black, two sugars.

Turning, Dean went to confer with Chuck rather than spend more time in silence with Jo. He'd had enough of that already. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her take her cup to an empty table and sit.

Chuck gestured at Jo. "How is she?"

"She saw her mom being torn apart while still alive. That's how she is." Lowering his voice, he took the clipboard from Chuck's hands and pretended to look it over. "I had to drag her away, Chuck. She kept trying to run back even as Ellen quit screaming and I couldn't let go of her. I couldn't because I'd promised I wouldn't. Ellen _made_ me promise that if anything happened to her, I'd get Jo to safety, so I did." He stared at the paper on the clipboard, not seeing any of the writing on it. "Jo hasn't said a word since she stopped screaming for Ellen, but I can still hear her screaming for her mom. The panic and anguish…."

Ellen had made a split-second decision that had cost her her life. Dean didn't think he'd ever forget the look on her face once she'd made that decision. She'd known she was going to die and that it was going to be more painful than anything she'd ever experienced, but as long as Jo would be safe, she'd do it. Her expression was seared into his mind, one more face he'd see in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

"Can she talk? I mean…did it mess with her head?" He took the clipboard back.

Dean eyed her a long moment. Jo was less than her usual put together self. Her long hair was loose and limp about her face, the clothes she wore stained with dirt, blood, and dark streaks of grease. There was a tear along one sleeve of her blouse. She'd wiped her face sometime during those three days they'd traveled, but there was still a smear of something along her left cheekbone. Dirt maybe? She was sane, though. He could see it in her eyes. Whatever this not talking thing was, it was temporary. "She's grieving. Jo's tough. She'll bounce back."

He wanted her to bounce back. He wanted to look at her and see the same Jo that had socked him in the eye and pursued the hunting life with all of the not so inconsiderable determination in her slender body. With all of his body and soul, Dean wanted a past neither of them could go back to.

The door opened. Castiel sauntered through, pausing right inside to take note of all in the room. His two fingered salute in Dean's direction was just jaunty enough to convey his altered state of consciousness. He moved to Jo's table and slid into the chair beside her with that boneless grace he had from being high most of the time. Some people got clumsy, some hungry…Cas however, moved with an elegance most people never achieved.

Most people weren't former angels.

He watched Cas talk to her and was relieved that he wouldn't have to take care of her. Castiel would work his sensitive new age male crap and she'd be fine again in no time. Frankly, he'd dreaded the attention Jo was going to need, because he knew full well he couldn't give it to her. Dean couldn't be anyone's emotional anchor. Not anymore.

"You still love her?"

Dean crossed his arms. Of course Chuck would know that he'd loved Jo. "Not that way. Not anymore." He didn't elaborate. If Chuck's visions had given out before Dean's relationship with Jo after Sam fell, then Dean wasn't about to enlighten him. As much as he cared for Jo, the two of them hadn't been a good fit together, not like they'd both hoped. All they'd done was argue and make-up, a vicious circle neither of them had expected. "Not for a long time."

* * *

As soon as Castiel heard that Dean had returned and only brought Jo Harvelle with him, he made his way across the camp to the dining hall. He sat beside her, careful of her personal space. That was one lesson he'd learned well over years of knowing Dean. It was important to respect personal space unless given permission to ignore it.

"Jo. We met before." Their meetings had consisted mostly of 'hello' in the doorway of Dean's motel room as Cas left to give them time alone. They'd never had much in the way of real conversation between them in those days. He'd gotten to know her mother far better than he knew Jo.

She looked at him. After a moment, she nodded, recognition in her eyes. It was understandable it took her a minute. He'd changed a lot since then.

"I'm Castiel, remember? Cas to my friends."

Another nod. Her brows rose and she gripped the steaming mug of tea with both hands, raising it to inhale the fragrance of orange and spices. She must like her tea strong, for he could smell it from his place beside her. Chuck tried hard to keep that flavor stocked. It was a favorite among the tea drinkers.

"Would you mind if I spent some time with you over the next few days? Maybe show you around and help you get oriented?"

One shoulder shrugged, Jo sipping the tea. She looked like she was trying desperately to suggest that she didn't care what he did or didn't do. Cas decided she had to feel adrift, frightened. Perhaps relying on whatever bravado was left inside her to get by.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to, Jo. Sometimes a lot can be said without using our voices." Catching Dean's eye, he gave a tiny nod. Jo Harvelle needed someone and it certainly wasn't going to be Dean. He didn't have the time or patience to deal with her, not with all of his other responsibilities. Cas tried not to think too much about the change in Dean over the past months. It caused him nearly as much pain as his own circumstances so he consciously pushed it aside.

Over the next fifteen minutes, he talked to her, telling her about the compound as she drank her tea. He didn't tell her the rules, not yet. There'd be time for that later. Instead, he told her other things, like the group dining hours and the entertainment opportunities that were supposed to keep up camp morale; day-to-day activities they all engaged in in an attempt to deny the truth of their coming future demise. When they'd established the camp, with Bobby and a few others, it had been Dean who insisted on pieces of normality, clinging to them like lifelines he couldn't let go of. Others had grasped those pieces, shaped them into what they were today.

In those minutes, he determined that the best thing for Jo was attention almost exclusively focused on her. For a couple weeks at least. Not a problem but a pleasure. Cas had discovered a deep appreciation for women. Each was beautiful, talented, unique. A wonder of creation. Jo deserved attention. He wanted to give it to her and make her realize just how special she was.

"You can stay in my cabin tonight," he offered, "and as long as you want or need to." It wasn't an offer brimming with salacious thoughts, merely one based upon her emotional needs. Jo Harvelle needed someone to listen to her; to hold her while she grieved, and give her a sense of closeness during this time. He'd do all that if she let him.

Jo quirked a brow, clearly conveying her reservations about that suggestion.

Castiel crossed his arms on the tabletop and grinned. "So that must be a 'thank you for that offer, Cas, it's very generous.' To which I reply, 'it _is_ generous, Jo, and heartfelt. You need a place to stay and I have the room.' Besides, I hate to say it, but some of our people at present aren't that friendly. Their attention, in the face of what happened to you recently and your known prior relationship with Dean, will be," he flicked his gaze along her, "uncomfortable for you, to put it in delicate terms." Dean's women, in other words, were a jealous, catty, sometimes violent bunch who'd take advantage of Jo's circumstances to do something they'd probably all regret later. "You'll be safe from their scrutiny with me. I _will_ keep my hands to myself, if that worries you."

Her glance went to Dean, the sadness in her eyes betraying the aching in her heart. She still cared for Dean. Too bad. It'd be better for all concerned if she didn't.

"You shouldn't bear this alone. Let me help." He wondered what was going through her mind, but being human didn't give him the easy way of knowing. He'd have to wait for her to share her thoughts.

Across the room, Dean gave a last fleeting look their way, then left.

Cas watched hurt and anger cross Jo's features when Dean didn't come to their table. She swallowed hard. To stave off tears, maybe? A moment later, she nodded.

"You accept the invitation," he guessed.

Another nod.

"Then we should go get you settled so you can rest for awhile." He stood, taking her empty cup in hand and showing her where to put it before leading her out of the building.

* * *

There was no door on his cabin. Jo stepped through the bead strands and wondered what he'd do when the weather got colder. To one side, she saw a small bathroom, little more than a closet and obviously added on a long time after the cabin was built. It, thankfully, had a door.

He indicated it with the languid motion of one hand. "The shower is small, the water merely warm, but it should be enough to refresh you. Leave your clothes outside the door. They'll be taken to be cleaned and mended. There should be plenty of towels. Feel free to use the soap and shampoo that are there. I'll wait outside."

Going into the bathroom, Jo shut the door and looked at her reflection in the small mirror above the sink. Her eyes were wide and she could see her fear clearly. Time would tell if she'd made the right decision in letting Dean bring her here. Their journey here hadn't been an easy one, but not for the reason people would think. Making their way through croat infested areas hadn't been the problem. The problem was Dean. He was hardly the man she remembered anymore, making no attempt to touch or comfort her in any way during their drive, as though doing so would be ridiculous. The drive had been awkward, filled with tension, Jo crying as silently as she could in the passenger seat. All the while, she'd expected him to say something like he once would have or hold her, yet he never did.

She winced as she undressed, feeling the pull of misused muscles. There were purple bruises on her body, with only faint yellowing at the edges. Some were from where Dean had gripped her and some from their escape. That they were still dark three days later told her how badly she'd been bruised. The initial bruises must have been black. No wonder she hurt all over.

Hopefully the shower would help with that.

The water was lukewarm, as Castiel had warned her, just a step above cold, yet after nearly a week without bathing, it felt heavenly. She did use the toiletries available, uncaring that the soap had a masculine scent. The stall was so small that she wondered how Cas managed, since he was taller than she was.

When she stepped out, she felt a bit better.

* * *

Dean sat on the bench, hands gripping the edge of it. He could hear the water in the bathroom running. Only a few of the larger cabins had full private bathrooms, tiny rooms barely large enough for a toilet, sink, and shower. The rest of the cabins didn't. Both he and Cas had snagged cabins with bathrooms. He wondered if Jo appreciated it. After a few weeks of the communal bathrooms, he thought she might. "She hasn't slept much, so if you can get her to…."

He'd wanted so badly to reach out and touch her in the car, to drag her against him and cry for Ellen like she did. But to do that would release a torrent of emotions he didn't think he could face. It had been best not to touch her at all. Let it all stay buried deep inside, so deep it'd never surface.

"Of course."

He watched Castiel hand off a basket of clothes to…what was that girl's name? Alexis?…and give her directions.

"These need washed and mended. She has nothing else to wear, so if you or Melanie could pick out a few things for her…. Provided you agree to that, Dean?"

"Sure. Whatever Jo needs or likes is fine." There hadn't been time to find Ellen's truck and collect Jo's belongings. It'd been all he could do to drag her away before the horde of croat infected people caught them as well as Ellen. A fine payback that would have been for Ellen, after she'd deliberately given them time to run. He cleared his throat, waiting until the girl was gone. "She also hasn't eaten much --" By rights she should be fainting from hunger, yet somehow Jo pushed on.

"I'll take care of her, Dean."

"I know you will, Cas." He nodded. Cas understood what Jo needed, he could see that already. Uncertain what else to say, he left Jo to Cas. She'd be in good hands with him.

She had to be.

* * *

Opening the bathroom door, Jo peered out. She was wrapped in only a large towel and there didn't appear to be any robe nearby that she could put on. By the doorway to the outside, two women were talking with Castiel, their voices low. His reply, however, was clear.

"I'm sure Jo will appreciate your generosity. Both of you. Maybe tomorrow she'll be up to meeting a few people."

One of the pretty young women glanced her way and smiled. Jo ducked back into the bathroom until she heard his voice again.

"You can come out, Jo. They're gone."

Looking into the room, she clutched the towel tighter, glad it was a bath sheet that covered her and not a regular sized towel.

"Come out." He beckoned her with one hand. "There are a few things here for you."

Laid out on his bed were clothes and a makeup bag. The bag was bright pink and plastic, of the sort that had once been given away as part of several cosmetic manufacturer 'gift with purchase' sales.

"Melanie did some shopping for you in clothing acquisition. Dean already signed off on whatever you'd like, special permission. There'll be some jealousy for that from other women, just so you know. Clothing is one thing we haven't raided extensively for yet. Most have been making do with what they brought with them and our focus has been on food and weapons. We'll raid for clothes soon though I think. Chuck would know." Cas indicated each item. "Underwear, socks, a pair of jeans, one blouse, one long sleeve t-shirt, and a jacket. Alexis took your other clothes to be cleaned and repaired. If anything here doesn't fit you or you don't like any of it, you can exchange it later."

Off to one side was a small pile of silky emerald green fabric and a tiny glass bottle with a flower shaped stopper. Jo clutched the towel tighter to her body, suddenly wondering if she'd been too hasty in accepting his offer. Did her stay here have conditions attached to it? With Dean, Jo would have just assumed he had some ideas. Castiel though? She didn't know.

The bag was unzipped, opened. Inside were trial-sized toiletry items. "These should get you started if you ration carefully. There's a raid planned on a super Walmart in a week or two. Tell Chuck if there's anything in particular you'd like and he'll try to have his team get it for you."

Her attention returned to the fabric and bottle. She was getting the feeling that he wasn't the same man…angel…she'd met before. While still quiet, he had an appealing air about him. "And those?" She indicated both items.

His smile was pleased. "Those are gifts. You're the same size as Alexis, so she'd like you to accept her favorite chemise." Scooping up the fabric, he shook it out for her to see. It was a basic spaghetti strap, mid-thigh, bias cut design, with lace at the hem and embroidery along the neckline. "She worked the embroidery herself."

Her brows rose. Okay then…. "I can't take that or wear it. I'm more of a cotton p.j. girl." Speaking of p.j.'s…. There weren't any. What was she supposed to wear to sleep in?

"It's an offering of love from her heart. She's welcoming you to the camp. Alexis is a very warm, welcoming young woman. If you want a friend here, she'd be a good one."

Reluctantly, Jo took the chemise, dropping it beside the bag.

"The other gift is from Melanie. Perfume."

"I don't wear perfume." It was best not to when out on a hunt. Perfume could give a person away. Jo hadn't worn perfume since…never. The closest she'd come were those scent imitation body sprays.

His smile faded. "You've an excuse for everything. Take the gifts and tell them 'thank you' when you meet them."

"You said some of the people here aren't friendly," she pointed out. "Seem friendly to me so far."

"You know what I meant by that, Jo."

Yeah, she did. Dean's women. She ended up taking the perfume as well, dumping it in the bag with the toiletries. Through the window, she could see it was getting dark out. Her stomach rumbled with hunger and she retightened the towel about her, very aware she was half naked. "I should stay somewhere else."

"Most people here have heard your name and know who you are. It's no secret you and Dean had a relationship and there'll be speculation that your relationship is going to continue here. Even if you deny it, it'll incite jealousy. The fastest way to diffuse it is for you to stay with me a couple days." He sat on the bedside. "You'll be safe here. Now, do you feel up to a group meal? If not, we can make a tray and bring it back here. No one will mind and if we go soon, you won't have to see many people at all."

Was she ready to meet more of the camp? No. What she wanted was to crawl under the bed covers and hide for weeks. Jo wasn't up to the emotionally draining task of meeting new people. "I don't want to see anyone."

"A tray here it is then. Do you feel up to getting dressed? I've a robe you could wear if you don't."

"I'm not stepping outside in just a robe," she protested.

"I do it all the time."

"I'll get dressed."

Getting up, he moved towards the doorway. "I'll wait outside again."

The clothes fit well and Jo was dressed in minutes, ready for the trek back to the dining hall. All the way there and inside the building, she was aware of the women present watching her. Their jealous stares seared through her, their hostility high. It seemed Castiel was right about that. She suspected a couple of them would as soon shove a knife in her back as look at her. Not a pleasant sensation.

Would she have even noticed if he hadn't warned her? Maybe not. This camp was supposed to be a safe place. She would have assumed safety for herself.

They ate their food sitting on the couch in his cabin.

"That was worse than I thought," she admitted, shoving imitation mashed potatoes about her plate, mixing them with what had to be formerly powdered gravy and canned green beans. "Some of them hate me already."

"Wait a few days. Dean's aware of the potential trouble."

"Is he?" She watched him rip open several small packets and douse the meatloaf with a liberal application of ketchup.

"He is. There's a current dearth of available men, so…."

"You're available," Jo pointed out. "Sure some of those looks weren't because I was with _you_?"

His laugh held something besides amusement, but she couldn't figure out what that something was. "I'm very sure. There's a reason I can say that, but I'm not going to explain it tonight. Maybe tomorrow. The reason can wait."

"I'm intrigued." Though she waited for more, he refused to tell her. Finally, she gave up on the conversation and the meal, setting her plate back on the tray and looking around the cabin for clues as to the sort of man he'd become. Candles, gong, statue. Some worn paperback books stacked on one chest. Nothing that really told her anything at all.

When he offered to make them some cocoa to go with the cookies that had been served with the meal, Jo accepted. It had been a very long time since she'd relaxed with cocoa and cookies. She'd probably been eleven or twelve at the time, sitting in the Roadhouse after school with her homework spread out on one table, her mom telling her she couldn't have any more cookies until after dinner, and their server Wendy slipping her two more cookies when Ellen wasn't looking. Jo had liked Wendy, but one day the woman hadn't shown up for work. She remembered her mother taking a call from someone that said Wendy was hurt, dying in an emergency room hundreds of miles from her family. Jo barely remembered the drive to the hospital, though she did remember her mother sitting in a chair at Wendy's side, holding her hand right up to that last breath.

Raising a hand, she wiped at her cheeks and the tears that had slipped silently down them. Her mother had been the emergency contact for more people over the years than Jo probably ever knew about.

Jo got up, accepting Castiel's invitation to pile the pillows behind her back and sit on the bed.

* * *

Dean stood by one window in his cabin, ignoring the woman getting dressed behind him. His attention was on Castiel's cabin and the fact that he could see Jo through the open curtains. She was sitting on the bed, drinking something.

From behind him came a miffed sniff and he sighed impatiently, glancing over his shoulder. "What, Tracy? What now?"

"It's Terri," she reminded him, throwing his pillow at him. "You _should_ remember it. You said it not ten minutes ago."

Reluctantly, he turned from the window to face her. "What do you want?"

She looked out the window, lips tightening. "Nothing, Dean. I don't want anything. And for the record, you're not getting anything ever again."

He didn't watch her flounce out in a huff, which undoubtedly would have made her madder if she'd noticed. Instead, he turned back to Castiel's cabin. Jo was still sitting, illuminated by the many candles Cas kept lit in the evenings. More than once, Castiel claimed that candlelight gave the world a softer edge, dulled the harshness of their current reality to something a bit more palatable. He saw Cas pacing, hands moving like they did sometimes when he was telling a story. Maybe he was telling her a story, Dean decided. Had to pass time somehow.

How long did he stand staring at them, his own cabin plunged into darkness as night descended upon the camp? How long did he look at Jo there across the clearing and ache to be the man he couldn't be, the sort of man Cas had become? In another time, another place, another lifetime…. Damned if that wasn't their story right there.

Cas would heal her. He'd help her regain herself. He had to.

Even after Castiel drew the curtains closed, Dean kept his attention there. It wasn't until the lights were extinguished that he went to bed.

* * *

The cocoa he'd made was good, the sweet orange the perfect foil for the bitterness of the dark chocolate. Jo sipped and listened to him tell her about some of the raids they'd been on. He made them a comedy of errors for her, making much of his own learning curve on humanity. Somewhere during the stories, he closed the curtains, but kept on talking as he did so. His voice was soothing, sliding in pleasant cadence in the air about her and Jo drank the dregs of the cocoa, setting her over-sized mug down.

She was sleepy, so very sleepy. All she wanted was to lie down, stretch out on the bed and close her eyes. Leaning back on her hands, she rolled her head on her neck, trying to pay attention to what he was saying and finding it difficult. She blinked, frowning a little. Her vision was a bit fuzzy. Sitting back up, Jo put a hand to her forehead. Her head started whirling as though she'd had too much to drink. "What did you give me," she demanded, interrupting him.

"Something to relax you," was his prompt reply.

"No." She tried to get up and couldn't, the dizziness increasing when she attempted to stand. Jo sat down heavily on the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress and shaking her head. "Oh no…."

"I apologize for the subterfuge regarding the cocoa. Dean said you haven't slept much in three days. You need rest. It's the best thing for you." He got up from his position on the floor and opened one trunk, removing some folded fabric from it. "Again I apologize for that and for the awkwardness of the next few moments. I'm going to undress you to make you more comfortable while you sleep."

I'm helpless, she thought. I can't stay awake.

Pinpricks of panic escalated to slashes up and down her body. The 'fight or flight' urge was there, but there was nothing she could do about it. There was no fight or flight available to her.

The need to simply close her eyes and sleep was overwhelming. Jo fought it with every ounce of will inside her. Still, her eyes kept slipping shut. If she slept, she'd be even more helpless and he could do anything to her.

"I know you're afraid, but your fears are groundless. If I'd wanted to rape you, Jo, or hurt you in any way, I could have at any point this afternoon and evening. You know that's truth."

Was that supposed to be a comforting thought?

"Besides, do you really think Dean would leave you with someone who'd harm you?"

He crouched down in front of her, undoing the buttons of the blouse and slipping it from her. Jo's eyes closed. Her head felt heavy. When she opened her eyes again, she discovered her head on his shoulder, one of his hands stroking her hair. After a moment, he eased her back, slipping a t-shirt over her head and working her arms into the sleeves. It was big on her, obviously a man's shirt. One of his?

Carefully, he laid her back onto the bed. Jo stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly, barely able to even roll her head to one side while he stripped the jeans from her. With gentle hands, he shifted her so that her head was on the pillows, then pulled the covers up over her. "Go to sleep, Jo. You're safe."

Jo succumbed to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 2  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

Normally, Dean hated being awake at dawn, yet knowing Castiel's early-bird tendencies, he made sure he was in the dining hall waiting, despite his raging headache. He had to know how Jo was before going about his daily duties. People came and went. One of Cas's groupies came in, the youngest one, Melanie, stopping when she saw Dean. Her eyes widened, a flicker of uncertainty and fear in them. She licked her lips, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and hurried past him.

Feeling just out of sorts enough to needle her, he trailed behind her, admiring the sway of her trim, denim-encased hips. Cas did have great taste in women, Dean reflected. He took a tray, piled a plate with food, then sat across from her at one table. She didn't say anything, avoiding looking at him to the point of being ridiculous, though he had to admit she was making progress. She didn't hurry through her breakfast, appearing to actually chew her food this time instead of inhaling it to be away from him.

Just another interaction with her, except this time she didn't burst into tears. Would wonders never cease? She had a habit of crying whenever he so much as looked at her. With a last nervous glance at him, she took care of her dishes and left.

He ate a hearty breakfast and was well on his way through a single urn of coffee all by himself when Cas came through the doors. "Finally," he muttered, shoving his chair back and abandoning his fresh cup of cooling coffee to follow Cas towards the food. "She awake?"

"Good morning to you, too." Taking a tray, Cas picked up a bowl with fruit, poked the serving spoon in the oatmeal a few times before shrugging and dishing some up, then took his tray to the drink urns. "Jo is sleeping. The drugs helped."

"Wait a minute." He dropped his voice to a near whisper, stretching out a hand and touching Castiel's arm. "You _drugged_ her?"

"Yes." Castiel poured hot water into a cup. "You said she needed sleep so I shared my evening drink mix with her."

"Evening drink mix?" He waited for an explanation with brows raised. While his personal drink mix was a healthy slug of Jack Daniels or other hard liquor in whatever liquid was in the cup by his bed, he suspected Castiel's was different.

"Dark chocolate cocoa mix with orange flavoring and a…sleep aid." He opened the tins on the shelves, perusing the full choice of teabags before selecting one.

"You drink that every night?"

"Usually."

"How is that good for you?" Cas's stare was decidedly unfriendly at that question. He could almost hear Cas asking how Dean had room to talk. Pick your battles, Dean told himself and held up a hand. "Okay. Let's get back to how you _drugged_ her."

Ripping open the packet, Cas took out the teabag and dunked it in the water. He sighed. "How else did you expect me to make her sleep? It's not as though I can simply stretch out my hand and do it that way anymore, is it?" Bitterness wrapped about the words like a loving caress.

Dean looked away, his curiosity high as to Jo's welfare, but not enough to wake her up himself and find out. "Is she okay?"

"She woke once earlier for a few minutes. I'll see how she is in a bit, take her some breakfast."

"She won't want much. Never does in the morning." He recalled mornings after making up with her, sharing cinnamon rolls or donuts with coffee while lounging on the bed. Or eating at a restaurant where Dean ended up finishing whatever she'd ordered. Unless it had chocolate in some form. Then Jo ate every bite, exclaiming afterwards that she'd eaten too much and felt sick.

Of course, in that case, he'd been right there with her, having ordered the same thing.

Castiel wouldn't know about Jo and breakfast though. He and Ellen had always disappeared together, not showing up again until either Dean or Jo called one of them. It was during those months the change in Cas had truly begun. After one two-day stint away with Ellen, Cas had started sleeping. He'd eased into a full night's sleep over a span of two months. Another few days away had seen him eating. Light meals at first. A piece of fruit. Some French fries or yogurt. Smoked oysters and black olives. His food likes were strange in Dean's opinion, though he suspected they were merely a mish-mash of what Cas had seen he and Ellen eating. Maybe there was a bit of Jimmy in there still, too. Who knew? Jimmy could still be tap-dancing around in Castiel's mind. That wasn't one of the things Cas had shared with Dean.

While he knew some of what had happened to Cas during those nights away, it wasn't something they'd ever talked about. No chick-flick moments for them about it. Castiel had avoided telling Dean much about his days and nights with Ellen, yet it wasn't hard at all to figure out that Ellen had shown him a thing or two on more than one subject.

"Good to know." Cas reached for one of the sugar containers, sprinkling some on the oatmeal.

"She'll like the pancakes, maybe a slice of bacon. Chocolate chips if you can sweet talk them out of Emily." He snorted. "If? Hell, what am I saying? Emily's sweet on you like most of the women here are."

Some days he hated those changes in Castiel -- all of them. He missed the days of Cas chugging a beer in response to seeing a nearly naked woman prancing up to him, or how he'd been tongue-tied and stumbling to say anything at all to that woman. This new man he'd become irritated Dean on so many levels it depended what day it was as to what change irritated him at present.

While he supposed Cas couldn't stay that naïve angel he'd been forever, Dean would have liked to have him around a bit longer. He missed the old Cas; the one constantly perplexed by human behavior. It had been a long time since Dean had had to explain much of anything to him.

"Thanks for the tip. I'll check with Emily."

Dean crossed his arms. "So…did you sleep in the bed with her?" He heard the carefully neutral tone that was really one step from outright jealousy and tried to tell himself it was only concern for her. They weren't a couple anymore and hadn't been for a long time. It was just general concern.

Cas dunked the teabag a few more times in the cup and lifted it up, letting drops drip down as he shook his head slowly. It wasn't a denial shake Dean realized even before Cas spoke. It was a disbelieving one, like how could Dean even think he'd take advantage of Jo at any time? "What if I did?" He tossed the teabag into the trashcan.

"Naked?"

His brows rose. "_She_ had clothes on." Castiel picked his tray back up. "Besides, I like my women conscious, which she most certainly was not." He brushed past Dean and moved to one table.

"Right."

Dean left the dining hall, taking a walk about the perimeter to check on the team on watch. The previous week, he'd caught one guy sound asleep, leaving a weak spot that could be exploited if anyone was watching them. Dean just assumed they were being watched. Some would call that paranoia. He called it common sense in the world they now lived in.

All were awake, doing exactly what they were supposed to. After exchanging morning pleasantries, he headed to the supply cabin, telling Chuck he'd be back in a couple hours to see about their weekly inventory.

Every week, Chuck did a serious inventory of all goods, writing up a shopping list of things they needed to raid for. They'd take out maps and plot a course of action with great military precision. Usually within two days, they'd mobilized and returned with trucks filled to bursting. Half the time they also brought back more people, too.

At Castiel's cabin, Dean paused. Should he go in and actually see Jo? He listened for sounds of movement or voices from the cabin. There were none.

No, he decided with a shake of his head. Not yet. Give her more time.

Instead, he followed the path to where the Impala sat, broken down and unfixable without the proper tools and parts. Wrenching open the driver's door, he slid into the seat and leaned his head back. Maybe, just maybe, if he closed his eyes, he'd realize this was all a dream and he'd wake to a world that hadn't gone wrong. To a world that still made sense.

But the sun was still warm on his skin and the breeze still carried the scents of the woods and sounds of the camp going about the daily business of life.

Dean heaved a heavy sigh, the very real weight of his responsibilities bowing his shoulders. After another long sigh, he drew in a breath, braced himself, and got out of the car. He had another day to get through.

* * *

Jo was going to be upset with him. Cas knew it and sought to take a step to soften the mood she'd be in when she woke. He arranged for that breakfast Dean had suggested, taking extra time to talk to Emily in the chance that she'd be generous with the dwindling supply of chocolate chips. She was, sprinkling a heavy layer between two pancakes.

"Powdered sugar or syrup," she asked, hand on one ample hip.

"Which do you suggest?" He'd take both if it was for him and whipped cream too if Emily had any. This was for Jo though. Chocolate was what Dean had suggested, not the sugar or syrup.

Emily tucked her red hair behind her ears and pursed her lips. "Well…. The sugar works for me, but some people like syrup instead. Tell you what," she leaned towards him a little with a quick smile, "I'll put a sprinkle of powdered sugar on them and a little pot of syrup on the tray. If you don't use the syrup, bring it back."

"I'm sure it'll be perfect."

The tray was ready in no time, Emily placing a cover on it and admonishing him to hurry or it'd get cold before Jo could try it. He didn't hurry, following the path, noticing the sun, the breeze, and a hundred other reasons to be outside for part of the day. Perhaps he could coax Jo out onto the porch at least. As he reached the hand pumps that led to the old well by Dean's cabin, Melanie fell into step beside him. She wasn't her usual cheerful self, her shoulders slumped and steps shuffling, face downcast. The good-natured twinkle was gone from her blue eyes.

"Can I ask you something, Cas?"

"Of course." He always tried to make time for anyone who asked, slowing his stride even more.

"I had breakfast across from Dean this morning," she told him, slipping her hands into her jeans pockets and casting a quick glance around them, as though she expected him to walk up behind her. "He just followed me and sat down there, staring at me while I ate."

"I see." Dean was starting early in his quest to make Melanie cry today. While it was nice to see him striving to improve himself in some area, his choice of sport was wearing thin. If making her cry was an Olympic sport, Dean was well on his way to a gold medal. Or was it silver that was the best one? He'd never gotten that quite right. Dean hadn't been interested in watching the games so Castiel hadn't watched them either. "What's your question?"

"Do you think Jo would like some company today?"

He stopped walking and shook his head. "I suspect she won't be up to meeting anyone for a few days."

Melanie scuffed the tow of one sneaker in the dirt and rocks on the path. Disappointment tugged her mouth into a dejected frown. "Are you sure? Because I'd be really quiet. I promise. She won't even know I'm there. I'll sit on the couch and read a book."

Cas turned to face her, trying to remember where she was scheduled to work this week and what day it was. "You're supposed to be in the supply cabin helping Chuck."

"Please? I won't disturb her." Her gaze hopeful, expression indicating that she wanted to meet Jo more than anything in the world.

He didn't have to think to read between the lines. It wasn't a secret that she was afraid of Dean and only Dean's presence would cause to her wish to abandon a job she normally liked. Her plea therefore meant…. "Chuck said Dean's going to be there this morning," he translated.

Melanie winced and crossed her arms, hugging herself. "For the weekly inventory review. Lucky me. He makes me feel stupid just by looking at me. The last time he showed up we were sorting pantry items and I dropped a whole bag of flour. The cabin floor looked like it had snow on it. And then he yelled at me."

Cas set the tray on the picnic table nearby, motioning for her to join him there. "Dean isn't always the easiest man to know. Believe me, we've had our clashes, but I don't think he means to hurt you, Mel. Sometimes, he doesn't think before he says things." Plus there was his continuing habit of saying stupid things to diffuse tension. He'd once heard Sam call it foot-in-mouth disease.

"He called me a 'naïve little screw toy' last week before he left." She looked away. "Just…snapped at me and I wasn't doing anything."

He turned his gaze briefly to Dean's cabin, then back to her. That must have been what had made Melanie cry the day Dean had left to go after Ellen and Jo. She hadn't told him the reason. "Okay, I'll talk to him about that." Reaching out, he grasped her arms, rubbed them with a light touch. "Go to laundry and talk to Alexis. I'm sure she'll switch for today and Chuck won't mind as long as he has someone to help him." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Problem solved."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"You're fully capable of making these decisions on your own, Melanie."

"But I like asking your advice."

It wasn't as simple as that, he knew. What she wanted and what she searched for from everyone around her was approval. From him, from Alexis, Chuck, and even from Dean. Alexis once told him it was a maturity thing coupled with a sheltered upbringing. He enfolded Melanie in a brief hug before setting her from him. "Go. I've got to get Jo's breakfast to her before it gets too cold."

"Okay."

Cas watched her go, a definite spring in her step now that she could avoid Dean awhile longer. While he knew he'd been very naïve once, had he ever been like Melanie? With a sigh, he picked up the tray and walked the rest of the way to his cabin.

* * *

He didn't molest her in the middle of the night. Jo woke enough at dawn to realize that while he'd slept in the bed with her, and naked at that, she still had her panties, bra, and that shirt on, for which she was thankful.

Castiel stretched much like a contented cat would, unselfconscious in his nudity. "Breakfast isn't for awhile yet, Jo. Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when it's time."

Comforted by the fact that he hadn't touched her in the night, Jo drifted back to sleep. When she woke, it was obviously much later than before, the sun high in the sky and the curtains all open to let in the light. Jo rolled over onto her back, the covers twisting about her body. She enjoyed a long stretch, drawing in a deep breath and noticing the faint scent of incense that she'd somehow missed the night before. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she returned to the bed, taking a brief glance in the basket near the doorway as she passed it. It was full of pill bottles and baggies of pills.

The mattress on the bed was somewhat lumpy, yet for the first time in weeks, she felt protected and very safe. She didn't have to be alert for the infected or scavengers. She could rest and it was about damn time.

Since they'd parted from Dean and Castiel in 2011, Jo and Ellen had done the same thing they'd been doing: hunting whatever came to their attention. The only difference had been in the escalation of jobs popping up. It was as though the end of the world signified a free-for-all among supernatural beings, giving them license to converge upon the population all at once. And if that wasn't enough, Lucifer sent the virus in January of 2012. Happy New Year, world.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away. It wasn't fair. Why did she have to lose her mother when Ellen had finally started treating her like an adult? Jo swallowed hard, taking slow even breaths in an attempt to force the tears away. Turning her face into the shaft of sunlight on the pillow beside hers, she continued to breathe, blanking her mind, consciously attempting to numb herself from the emotional pain.

As she laid there, Castiel came through the beads that served as the cabin door, a tray in his hands. He set it down.

Jo sat up, drawing the covers high against her chest. She was thankful for the diversion from her own thoughts. For three days she'd dwelt far too much in her own mind. "I don't like being drugged," she told him in a husky, still sleepy voice, shoving her hair back off her face with one hand.

"How are you feeling," he replied, ignoring her statement and taking the lid off the tray.

"I said I don't like being drugged." She repeated it slower, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms about them, then resting her chin on her knees.

He poured two mugs of coffee, the aroma drifting to her and causing her stomach to growl, then looked at her. "I heard you. _How_ are you feeling? Answer me on that one and we'll address the other after you've eaten."

"I shouldn't eat or drink anything you give me."

His hands moved items about on the tray and, after removing one mug, he brought it to her. "Put your legs flat so I can set this down."

With the best defiant stare she could manage, Jo tightened her arms about her legs. "No. When I get up I'm punching you."

His reaction wasn't what she was expecting. Castiel laughed, a warm, rich and pleasant sound. "Okay. Question answered. You weren't nearly this obstinate yesterday." The tray was set at her feet. "You're welcome to punch me, but can we wait until after breakfast is digested? Physical violence is best left to mid-morning at the earliest I think."

Jo eyed the tray. The smell of the food made her stomach rumble even louder. "Maybe I'll kick you too."

"Okay." His tone was affable. "Move the tray first or you get to wash the bedding yourself." He took his mug to the couch and sat. "Eat the fruit at least and don't let on that you wasted Emily's pancakes to anyone. I had to fight half the camp for those."

"You like them so much, you eat them."

"Never said I liked them. I prefer lighter fare for breakfast and lunch and a heavier dinner. Dessert is always preferred over all, however, especially if it's chocolate." He gestured at the coffee. "Try the coffee. Nathan made it. He's a coffee connoisseur, so when he's on duty, he tries to educate us all in the perfect cup." Observing her a moment with that still piercing gaze, he added, "Drugging you was a one-time thing. I promise. I'll never drug you again unless you ask me to."

The pancakes were awfully tempting, as was the coffee. "In what world would I ask to be drugged?"

He glanced at the window behind her and sighed. "I apologize, Jo. I'm the one who wants to spend my time drugged. I'll make you a deal. If those are drugged and you pass out again, when you wake up, you can beat the crap out of me and I promise not to defend myself. I'll lie there and wait for you to finish making certain I'm aware of the error of my action. In case you break my jaw or something, let me say right now that I'm well aware of my transgression and shall never repeat it." One hand raised, palm up, in a quick emphasizing gesture. "Unless you tell me to."

She wanted to be outraged and remain that way, yet in all honesty, she couldn't summon the energy. In his place, she might even have done the same thing. Jo sat cross-legged and reached for the plate. He'd brought pancakes, a little fruit, and a piece of bacon. Using the fork, she lifted the edge of one pancake. Chocolate was smeared between the pancakes. She could smell the sweet scent of it. "Are those chocolate chips in the center?"

His head dipped in a nod. "Emily did me a favor. Chocolate is therapeutic. Or so I've heard and if anyone could use some of that therapy right now…."

She worked her way through half of it before pushing the tray away and settling back to enjoy the coffee.

He got up and came to the bedside, looking first at the tray, then her. "You only ate half." His tone wasn't accusing or angry for the wasted food, merely curious.

"It was good, but…I haven't been eating much lately. Just not that hungry."

"Define lately. A week? More?"

Jo looked away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him remove the tray and set it near the doorway. The food was heavy in her stomach. "Five days. Since Dean found us."

Her lack of appetite wasn't because of Dean. His presence had simply coincided with that nervous gut-clench that kept her from wanting much in the way of sustenance. Between the infected and her mother's death, her appetite had disappeared. Jo hadn't been able to force much beyond a single bite here and there down. Dean had tried to get her to eat, tossing food at her like she should be grateful he bothered to give her anything. One more bit of tension on that drive here.

"You'll get your appetite back," he assured her. "It may take awhile, but it'll happen."

While she hated the fact that Castiel had drugged her, she felt better overall. Her head was clearer and she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get through a few hours without crying for her mom.

She was wrong. Merely thinking about her mom brought on the waterworks.

"Cry as much and as often as you want." He returned to the couch and his coffee.

"I'm not crying." She wiped at her eyes, dabbed at them with the sheet.

"You don't have to be resolute in front of me. I've had my share of tears in the recent past. I won't begrudge you yours."

The kindness and understanding in his voice made the urge to wail stronger. No, she told herself. I'm not going to break down. "I'm not crying." Jo took a long gulp of the hot brew, searching for some other topic to bring up. "You could have slept on the couch."

With a glance at the cushions he currently sat on, he replied, "Have you tried sleeping on this couch? I don't recommend it. The bed is more comfortable. Why would I give up comfort for torture?" The mug was drained, placed on the table, beside three bottles.

"Um…decency? Because I was already on it?"

He didn't understand, a puzzled gleam in his eyes that reminded Jo of earlier days in their acquaintance, when she'd watched Dean trying to explain something that Castiel didn't quite grasp. It was reassuring in a bizarre way to see that he still didn't 'get' some things.

She tried again. "Respect for someone you barely know?"

"We know each other well enough. What was indecent? You slept. I slept. We both slept."

"Yeah…" She raised her brows. "But you slept _naked_, Cas." Drinking the last of her coffee, she put the mug on the flat top of the chest beside the bed.

He nodded. "Yes. I always sleep naked. Sleeping clothes combined with sheets and covers tangle. I dislike the sensation of being trapped in a cocoon. Reminds me of one particularly unpleasant encounter with a demon who called herself 'Meg'. The easiest solution was nudity."

"What did she do?"

His expression shifted, grew serious, the pain glinting in his eyes strong enough that Jo could see it from the bed. "She died. And was very surprised that I killed her. She's one of those things I self-medicate to forget, Jo."

"Oh." Jo tugged the covers up again. She could understand that. There were a few things she wanted to forget herself aside from recent days. "How long have you been actually sleeping?"

"You mean like humans?" At her nod, he shrugged. "I started needing sleep back while you were still seeing Dean. At first it was an hour, maybe two, but as the weeks passed, it developed into a full-blown need for a solid eight hours. Sometimes even ten hours."

"Ten hours?" She gestured to the basket across the room. "It's probably all those pills over there doing that."

He chuckled, a low rumble. "Sometimes it is. I'll admit that."

"So…was the nudity _your_ solution to the problem?" Jo smothered a small smile at the thought of Dean suggesting that solution. She very much doubted he had. It was more likely he'd told Cas to 'suck it up' and 'wear clothes like a man'.

"Yes. Dean was appalled, insisted it was against the natural order of things for me to sleep naked in the same room he was sleeping in. I argued that we had two beds and he was being prudish." He laid back, hands clasping beneath his head. "He lost the argument. I certainly know more about 'natural order' than he does. He had to concede that though he didn't want to." He glanced at her. "His solution to my solution was then separate rooms."

"That was why you went from one room to two right before Dean and I called it quits."

"Yes."

They continued to talk, but it wasn't long before Jo could no longer hold back her sorrow. The tears wouldn't stop falling. Within a few seconds of her sobs beginning, Cas had joined her on the bed. His arms went around her like she'd thought Dean's would on the drive there, one hand easing her head to his chest. Jo curled against Castiel and let herself cry out the pain of loss.

He held her, not saying anything, simply…being there. He stroked her hair and her back with a hand, rocking her a little. It was exactly what she needed, when she needed it, and rather than leave the comfort of that embrace, Jo stayed long after the bout of tears faded.

She was tucked back beneath the covers after that, Cas wiping her face with a cool cloth in gentle sweeps until she fell back asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 3  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: Thank you for the reviews!

* * *

He didn't mean to get caught peering at Castiel's cabin with a pair of binoculars…by Castiel himself. It just sort of happened.

Dean tied back the curtain on the window facing Cas's cabin, dragged a chair over, and was balanced precariously on the chair back with binoculars in hand attempting to catch a glimpse of Jo when someone cleared his throat behind him. He lowered the binoculars, still staring at the cabin, casually adjusting the binocular strap about his neck. "Yeah?"

"You could always come see her instead of peeping through windows." Amusement colored Cas's words.

He glanced over his shoulder, feigning nonchalance. "I was bird watching." A lame excuse and one that made Cas snicker. Dean had never been bird watching in his life. He could identify the usual ones he'd seen, like crows, hawks, cardinals, pigeons, but little else unless he absolutely had to. He'd never had to.

"Bird watching?" Cas joined him at the window, snagged the binoculars from his hands and raised them in the direction Dean had been looking. The strap around his neck about choked him, Dean wobbling for balance for a few seconds. "Well look at that. I'll have to remember to close_ those_ curtains too," Cas remarked. "You can see right through to my bed." Handing them back, he added, "Strange, but I don't see any birds out there."

"You scared them off."

"Oh yes, that must be it."

Dean fixed an annoyed stare upon him, refusing to be embarrassed. He had every right to look out of his cabin windows, with or without binoculars. "What do you want?"

He shrugged. "To update you on Jo." One hand lifted, made a gesture at the window. "Since you're obviously interested."

"Jo's a trooper. She can take care of herself. Doesn't need me worrying over her." Carefully, he stood from his balanced position and removed the binocular strap from around his neck.

"She is, she can, and while the last may be true, you still do. It's understandable that you continue to worry about Jo. She means a lot to you."

He moved the chair back to where he'd gotten it and laid the binoculars aside, ignoring that validation of his feelings for Jo. With his back facing Cas, he asked, "And? Update me. How's she doing?"

"As well as can be expected after what happened. She's been sleeping more hours than she's awake and crying in either state, but I think it's going to be up now instead of down further. She's eating and while she hasn't made it through an entire plateful in one sitting yet, she's getting there."

The news brightened his mood to the point that he didn't even mind having gotten caught peeping at her. "How soon do you think until she's back to normal?" Did it even _count_ as peeping when he hadn't gotten a glimpse of her?

"That's not really something I can measure. She might never be back to her old self, or she might be by tomorrow."

Dean nodded. "Good, good. Keep working with her or whatever you're doing." The sooner Jo was back to normal the better. He needed her that way and looked forward to that day. She was going to be an asset the camp sorely needed and one he intended to utilize to the fullest. His Jo was going to be back soon.

"Will do."

A moment of silence passed before Dean realized Castiel was watching him and not heading for the doorway. "Was there something else?"

"Yes. One thing." He held up a finger. "Either be nicer to Melanie or leave her alone altogether." His tone changed, hardened with that ultimatum.

"I'm perfectly nice to Melanie. Which one is she again?" An attempt to tease that fell flat when Cas crossed his arms with an admonishing stare.

"You know who she is."

Dean pictured her in his mind, her eyes wide and brimming with both tears and emotional hurt from something he'd said to her. "Brown hair, nice figure, cries a lot. Melanie. Oh her. Sure, I know who she is."

"Leave her alone."

"Tell me how, Cas. She's in my way twenty-four-seven. I can't go anywhere without running into her since, you know, she _lives_ here."

"Okay, okay." He stroked his chin with forefinger and thumb of one hand. "Valid point." That hand gestured. "Then how about not calling her such charming epithets as 'naïve little screw toy'. That would help. Thanks."

"I haven't called her that…." But he had. Recently.

She'd been helping Chuck pack that vehicle Dean had planned to take to go find Ellen and Jo, standing behind Chuck and ticking items off on a list as Chuck packed them. He'd been in a foul mood, sick with fear for Ellen and Jo and with the knowledge that by the time he made the drive across the country to them, they could be dead. All he'd wanted since Ellen's call had come through was to be on the road, yet Chuck had insisted he have some supplies besides weapons. He remembered snapping at both of them, taking out his frustrations with words.

It wasn't like he enjoyed hurting her. He didn't. He felt like an ass every time something he said made her tear up, but she was too damned sensitive. Every little thing brought on the waterworks. She needed to toughen up, grow a thicker skin. She needed….

He licked his lips. "You layin' down the law?"

Cas shook his head. "I'm just asking you nicely to treat her better, but if I have to, then yes, I'll 'lay down the law'."

Dean eyed him a long moment, taking in Cas as a whole right then. A soft voice with a hint of steel beneath the words, the way he'd said them reminiscent of how he used to talk right before Sam…. That casual pose with tension almost masked completely, betrayed only in the set of his shoulders. He was stone sober on all fronts, gaze clear, with no altered consciousness yet today, serious beneath the relaxed carefree façade. He'd do what he said. He'd protect Melanie if he thought Dean was really hurting her.

He held up his hands. "Okay. I'll try to be nicer."

"No name calling. It upsets her."

"Sure."

"No snapping at her in a fit of temper."

He tried not to roll his eyes. "No more than I do anyone else."

"If I hear you've made her cry on purpose --"

"Like I do that on purpose. She cries more than any woman I've ever met. I bet she cries at pictures of puppies and kittens too."

"She's young and she's scared." His head tilted a fraction to one side. "Don't you remember what that's like?"

He did. Somewhat. "I get the point, Cas. Melanie is to be treated like some fragile piece of art in a museum."

His shoulders relaxed, manner returning to that one he'd walked into the cabin with, as though he could turn it on and off at will. Maybe he could. "Excellent. Good talk, Dean."

"Sure. Anytime."

Castiel moved towards the door, pausing as he reached it. "Oh, and Dean? You might be able to see Jo walking out of the bathroom in her towel…or naked even…if you perch in the tree on the other side of the clearing. Looks like it should be a clear view provided the curtains are open. I'm headed that way now. You want to grab the binoculars and walk over there with me? We could check."

"You're hilarious."

With a last chuckle, Cas left.

* * *

For three days, Jo stayed in bed as much as possible, sleeping and crying, eating whatever Castiel brought her. He seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of when to leave her alone and when to fold her in his arms and hold her. Cas held her a lot in those three days.

On the fourth day, she woke to a young woman in the cabin with her, that same woman who'd smiled at her the day she'd arrived. She was arranging items on a tray with great care, humming softly to herself. She was slim, in jeans and a t-shirt, her long brown hair loose about her shoulders, noticing Jo was awake before Jo had time to study her properly.

"Hi. I'm Melanie." She smiled. "Cas told me to be at your beck and call today." This was announced in a sing-song tone. "Anything you need. He's talking with Dean right now, though from what I can tell, their talks are a bunch of arguments and they both emerge from them in a bad mood." Bringing the tray to the bed, she set it down on the far side. "Is it true you and Dean were an item once?"

Jo pushed to a sitting position. "Yeah. It's true. We were together for about a year. Why?"

She shrugged, moving the napkin on the tray from the right side to the left. "No reason. Just asking."

"Oh. Is that coffee?" She indicated the thermos still over by the doorway, already looking forward to the brew. The oft-mentioned Nathan was a master at the coffee urn. Jo suspected he'd run a Starbuck's or something like it. She didn't even need sugar in it.

Melanie retrieved the thermos, turned the mug on the tray over, and poured some into it. "I brought an entire thermos and you don't have to share it. It's yours to enjoy. I already ate." She handed Jo the mug.

The tray had a small breakfast of toast and fruit. Fruit seemed to be the canned good of choice, featured with prominence in each meal. Though Jo hadn't asked, she decided it was likely a case of an excess grabbed during a raid combined with running low on a few things to fully round out the meals. While she ate, Melanie occupied herself with cleaning the cabin. She set the dirty clothes basket by the door and used a cloth to dust.

When Jo had eaten her fill, finishing all but a bite of the toast, she sat back to drink the coffee and asked, "How long have you been in camp?"

"About three months," was the prompt reply. "I was taking a hotel management course before the virus started really spreading."

"How did you end up here?"

"Do you really want to know?" She sounded surprised.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

This time, she was slower to reply, her hands pausing in her task. "I went to work one day when it had been advised that people stay home and off the streets. I shouldn't have gone, but I don't like calling off. It's irresponsible, you know? Anyway, I went to the inn, that's where I worked, and was one of the few to actually show up. I know it was stupid to go. I do, and when things started to go wrong, I didn't know what to do." She turned, leaning against the wall, staring at the floor. "So I hid. I hid under the front desk. There were all these noises…."

"The infected?" Jo tossed the covers off and got up, stretching a little, wondering where the brush Cas had used to brush her hair had gone. During a lull from her sleeping and crying, he'd sat behind her, working the brush through the slight snarls in her hair. The gentle tug of the brush had brought back a memory from when she was little.

Her mother had always sprayed detangler on Jo's hair before combing it out, but one evening, Ellen had gone to answer the phone before she'd gotten the spray bottle out. Determined to be a big girl, Jo had attempted to comb her own hair, making it worse as she listened to her mother arguing with someone. What was a big girl to do to solve that problem but take the scissors on the table and cut off the snarls? Problem solved. Ellen had returned to find Jo standing there with a good chunk of her blond hair on the floor, scissors still in hand. Her mood had strangely not been made worse by the incident.

Jo recalled Ellen laughing, taking the scissors from her and saying, "Your daddy's gonna love this story when he gets back, Jo. I can hear him now -- El, you left _our_ girl alone with a pair of scissors? What'd you think would happen?"

She finger-combed as she looked for the brush.

"Must have been them because I heard screams. Gunshots. Men yelling." Her gaze raised, and she must have noticed Jo's gestures, for she picked up the brush Jo now noticed on the table. "It was Dean who found me." Melanie crossed to her, handing her the brush and returning to her task of dusting. "He dragged me out, held a gun in my face. I thought he was going to kill me. The look in his eyes was terrible, like he was this creature with no compassion."

Melanie's hands were shaking, her voice wavering, betraying the real fear she had of Dean. He'd made a less than favorable impression on her, which was funny in a weird way because women usually liked Dean. It was fully understandable, though. Jo began to brush her hair as Melanie continued. She was going to have to find something to use to tie off a braid for nighttime. Maybe Melanie or another woman would have an extra tie she could have.

"I fainted, or at least that's what Cas said happened. I don't remember. When I woke up, I was in the truck and Cas was holding me. He stayed with me while Dean yelled at me. Dean claimed he was only asking me questions about what happened, but really he was yelling. He's good at that."

Yeah, Jo agreed silently. Dean was good at yelling. At one time, he'd been good at laughing and smiling and many other things too, but most of those had slipped away in the weeks following Sam's fall. She finished brushing her hair and set the brush aside, studying Melanie closely, estimating how old she probably was. "Melanie, how old are you?"

"I'll be twenty next month."

Twenty? She looked much younger in Jo's opinion. "And you're one of Cas's…what?… friends?" He'd yet to explain that comment he'd made the day she arrived.

"That's not the word Dean uses. The ones he favors are usually pretty rude."

Knowing Dean's vocabulary, Jo had a pretty good idea the sort of things Dean put together as insults, especially when he'd had time to come up with what he thought was a good one. "I can imagine. What does he call you?"

"Well…" Melanie glanced over her shoulder. "The last thing he called me recently was 'naïve little screw toy'."

Jo thought about that a second. 'Screw toy' as used by Dean would mean exactly what it sounded like. Then she thought about the brief scene she'd witnessed between Cas and Melanie and the other woman. His gentleness. That almost intimate way he'd spoken with them. "You mean you and Castiel…. You're gettin' it on?" Not what she'd been expecting. She reached for her coffee cup again, intending on taking a good swig to get a bit more caffeine running through her system.

Now Melanie turned, alarm flitting across her pretty features. "I wasn't supposed to say anything!" She covered her mouth with her hands. "Cas said not to. He said none of us should say anything until after he'd told you about our arrangement."

Us? In the act of swallowing a mouthful of coffee, Jo coughed, the liquid spraying the air. She wiped her chin with her hand. "Plural? You mean there's more than you?" Okay, he was like Dean then? That didn't wash, though. Castiel wasn't like Dean at all from what Jo had seen since she'd arrived. She set the cup back down in preparation for any more bombs Melanie might drop without meaning to.

"Well yeah, but don't worry or anything. We're not jealous of you staying here. It's not like a girlfriend-boyfriend thing. It's more of a --"

"Thank you Mel." Castiel was leaning against the doorway, hands in his pants pockets. "I'll take up the explanation from here."

Melanie cast an apologetic glance Jo's way as she moved to the doorway. "It just slipped out Cas, really. I didn't mean to tell her."

"I heard." He didn't appear angry, or even mildly annoyed. Amused and impossibly relaxed described the look on his face far better and he touched Melanie's cheek in a fond gesture as she reached him. "Why don't you go help Alexis while I explain things to Jo? Come back in a couple hours. Jo might have questions that you can then answer freely."

Jo waited until Melanie was gone and he stepped further into the cabin. "She's only nineteen." Granted, Jo herself wasn't much older , yet in her opinion, there was a world of difference between her age and Melanie's.

"Nearly twenty."

She blinked at his nonchalance, shook her head a little. "And?"

He blinked back, sauntering towards the bed. "And she's sweet? Pretty? Nice?" A few seconds later, he got what she was asking and nodded in a wise way. "Ahhh. You think she's too young for me."

"She's nineteen and you're --"

"Technically old enough that the oldest woman currently alive could be considered too young for me. I _was_ an angel, Jo."

Oh yeah. She took fresh clothes from lid of the trunk at the end of the bed. She'd forgotten that part for a few seconds. "So what's the deal? You got a harem or something?" The words were meant as a joke, a way to break the tension she felt in the air. His response, however, made her speechless for long seconds.

"Something like that, yes." He dropped onto the bed and laid back so slowly and gracefully it looked like slow motion. "There are no strings, no jealousy, just an exploration of the limits of physical pleasure in a group setting with an eye towards a spiritual experience."

It took her a moment to translate that. When she did, an embarrassed flush flared across her cheeks. Jo didn't consider herself a prude at all, but…. "You hold orgies," she managed to ask.

"Once or twice a week and no more than three."

"Why?"

He slid his hands beneath his head and crossed his ankles. "Because it's important to have a day to recover."

Hugging the clothes to her chest, Jo stared at him. Was he serious?

Cas laughed. "I'm teasing, Jo."

"Oh." But just as she started to laugh with him, he continued.

"I only have them maybe twice a month. The rest of the time it's one-on-one or two-on-me."

"Well…that's _completely_ different. I wasn't asking about the time schedule. I mean why…orgies?" She shrugged.

Cas studied her, a tiny smirk in place. After he'd dragged his gaze down her and back up, he quirked a brow. "Because sex feels good, Jo. Don't tell me you don't know that. I remember hearing you and Dean through the motel wall. Sure sounded like you were enjoying yourself."

She looked away. The heat on her cheeks wasn't lessening. "I'm not having this conversation."

"Yes you are. When Mel comes back, ask her anything. She doesn't open up to just anyone." He raised up onto his elbows. "Melanie is somewhat delicate. She's fragile emotionally, so it's best to keep her away from Dean. He's puts her in tears on a regular basis."

"If she's so fragile, should you be having sex with her?"

""Who says I'm having sex with her?"

A nice, quick counter to the question. "So you're not?"

"I didn't say that."

"You evade questions like Dean can. It's a rather impressive talent, actually."

Now he laughed, lying back down. "You want the truth?"

She retreated into the bathroom to get dressed. "The truth would be nice," Jo called out.

He told her about Melanie, how they'd found her hiding and frightened and that Dean was the one who caught her when she fainted. Her head had narrowly missed hitting the edge of the desk. He'd also carried her to one truck and ordered Cas to stay there with her while the rest of them finished their sweep. Cas had held her and kept holding her until she woke halfway back to the camp.

That day hadn't been Dean's finest hour, Cas was clear on that. He'd been bitter, surly, curt, and far more sarcastic than normal, not inclined to coddle anyone, even someone who needed coddling like Melanie did. He hadn't taken into account her age or the circumstances, proceeding to scare her senseless, so badly that all she'd done was cower against Cas, crying. Though Cas had tried to calm her, Dean made it worse by snapping at her.

"Imagine it," he said. "This young woman who'd grown up fairly sheltered, dealing with the infected, having a gun shoved in her face, waking up with a group of strange men in a strange vehicle, and then having one man spend over an hour snapping at her all in the space of less than a single day."

Fully dressed now, Jo sat on the edge of the bed beside him. She could imagine it with ease. She knew what Dean was like when he got that tunnel-vision on a mission. Utterly focused on it until the end, or until something managed to break that vision.

"It took Alexis and I two days to calm her down. Melanie rooms with Alexis now." He rolled onto his side facing her. "Alexis brought her to one orgy and I invited Melanie to spend time with me on a day-to-day basis. She's very sweet and if you don't like Alexis, maybe you'll like her." Stretching out a hand, he touched her knee, gave it a light squeeze. "They don't stay here overnight. None of them do. You're the only one who's ever stayed here overnight."

"Why?"

His eyes showed a sudden somber mood change, his lips parting. Cas didn't answer her, getting up from the bed. "Shall I send Melanie back now or later?"

She ran her gaze over him, noting the discomfort in his stance. Why was he uncomfortable? She couldn't think of any reason for it, at least nothing she'd said or done. "Um…I don't know. Whenever is fine."

Jo ventured outside onto the porch of the cabin, sitting on one of the benches near the doorway. It was a beautiful day. She could hear children yelling somewhere in the distance and the sounds of people talking. By just looking out at the clearing it was impossible to tell that the world beyond the camp was in chaos. Everything looked so neat and orderly compared to outside. The grass was green, there was a splash of color that was probably wildflowers by the tree line, and Jo smelled wood smoke in the air.

She sat still, watching the camp, savoring the fact that nothing was happening that needed her attention. There was no job to do, nothing she needed to work on, and no pressure whatsoever. She could finally relax, if only for a little while.

* * *

Her question rang in his mind as he made his way to where the few children they'd found were having lessons. Alexis taught them two days a week, while a young man named Noah taught three. It was a way to give them structure and a sense of safety, the familiar schedule comforting when several of them had lost parents and siblings.

Why was she the only woman to stay overnight?

Castiel watched Melanie and Alexis with the children, playing some sort of game in the clearing. He thought about why he kept to himself at night. It was silly really, and maybe another reason he'd argued with Dean until they'd gotten separate rooms the previous year before setting up camp.

Sleeping meant vulnerability.

When he slept, it was with trepidation, even after these months had passed. He was vulnerable enough as a human without anyone witnessing that helpless state. The fear of being unconscious and open to attack wouldn't cease, hence that drink mix he'd come up with. At least with the drug in his system, he didn't lie for long in the dark with dread and fear dancing along his skin. Without it, he tended to toss and turn, jumping at every sound, until sleep took him.

Some nights it had been so bad that he'd been unable to sleep at all. Not a good idea, he discovered. The human body needed sleep to rejuvenate, unfortunately. He missed those days of angelic ability; of waking Jimmy to talk while he waited for Dean somewhere.

So why, if he was so afraid, had he let Jo stay? Why even offer to begin with?

Because he knew her. Because he'd been close to her mother. Because…she needed him. Honestly, he'd barely thought about his sleeping problem at all when he'd invited her to stay with him for an indefinite period. It had seemed the right thing to do at the moment.

He decided he liked having her there with him. Already, Jo had become a comfort to him; a familiar presence he could wrap his arms around when he woke in terror at two a.m. from nightmares that always featured the demon Meg and her ideas of fun.

At Lucifer's behest, Meg had focused her efforts on Cas, though she'd admitted in one encounter that part of her craved to rip his wings away any way she could. She'd hardly needed Lucifer's prodding once she realized Cas was going native and there was a somewhat limited timeframe to indulge in playtime. She was a warped, foul creature that deserved the worst corner of hell. It pleased him to have been the one to send her back there.

He shuddered, pushing all thoughts of her aside. He'd rather contemplate Jo and how he felt with her there in the night.

The previous night he'd turned against her, an arm about her waist, pressing his face against her neck and breathing in the scent of her skin. Later, he'd woken to find that she'd moved against him, bare legs tangled with his, her head and one hand on his chest. Her breath had tickled in a very pleasant way.

Jo was warmth and light in the harsh cold of night and he wanted her to stay with him.

He remembered the first time he'd slept. It had been Ellen with him, explaining that the falling sensation he might experience was perfectly normal when one fell asleep. He'd hated that sensation, fought against it, not wanting to give in to the pull and admit he was going to be mostly human sooner rather than later.

Ellen had insisted he have a bedtime ritual to start with. A shower maybe to relax. A few minutes reading. Something, _anything_, to get him in the frame of mind for sleep. It was Ellen who'd given him hot chocolate for the first time, doing so that night and insisting he drink it all before lying on the bed beneath the covers. She'd taken one of his hands in hers, fingers stroking along his skin, and smiled.

"I'll be right here," she'd said. "I won't let anything happen to you."

She'd been a start and maybe if Jo and Dean had managed to stay together until that two month slide into sleep had been completed he wouldn't have this irrational fear of it. But they hadn't stayed together and halfway through learning to deal with his need for both sleep and food, Ellen and Jo were gone. Dean hadn't been the sort of support Castiel needed, too wrapped up in his pains -- from the break-up with Jo among other things -- to pay much attention to what Cas needed. He'd needed someone to continue what Ellen had begun; to reassure him nightly that he was going to be okay and that nothing would hurt him.

Since then, he'd realized that, in regards to his terror of sleep, he was very much like those children playing in the clearing, needing that adult authority to reassure and calm. Ellen had done the best she could in the time they'd had together, teaching him things Dean probably never realized Cas didn't know. She'd seemed to have a list in her mind, working through it with a sense of urgency that he'd felt but hadn't understood at the time. Now, he thought she'd seen the signs that Jo and Dean's relationship was failing long before either of them knew it. Ellen had known that she and Cas didn't have much time left and had made each moment count.

Like her mother before her, Jo's presence was both reassuring and calming, a healing balm in the dark of night, chasing his fear away.

He decided right then not to press her to ask Dean for her own cabin. He'd ignore the issue, wait for her to bring it up and see how, or if, she asked him about it. Maybe she'd ease into his daily life so well that she'd forget she didn't have to stay. Maybe she'd want to stay.

He hoped she would.

Cas caught Melanie's eye and waited for her to join him.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 4  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

When Jo grew tired of sitting on the porch, she stepped back inside the cabin and went to the stack of books she'd noticed before. It amused her to see one of them was a historical romance by an author known to write stories one step above porn. She bypassed that one, glancing through the other titles and finally settling on the lone mystery novel, a story set in a bed and breakfast. Castiel's taste in reading was as eclectic as Jo's taste in music. She wondered if it was by nature or necessity. If she asked, he'd probably tell her.

Jo took the book to the couch and attempted to relax. Cas was right about it not being the most comfortable piece of furniture and she ended up shifting every few minutes on the cushions, approximately at the end of each short chapter.

She'd made her way through a quarter of the novel before Melanie returned, out of breath and with grass stains on her jeans. Melanie crossed to the couch and sat on the end opposite of Jo. Drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms about them, she gave off the impression of being eager to tell Jo anything.

"So…. Any questions? I'll answer anything."

Jo set aside the book and stretched a little. She had more than one, but where to start? Maybe with the part that puzzled her the most? "How about your relationship with Cas? Explain that to me." She didn't get Melanie and Cas together. She just seemed too young.

Melanie smiled, resting her chin on her knees. "He's nice. Gentle. He doesn't make me feel like I'm some young moron who can't do anything."

Doubtless a reference to Dean.

"Cas talks to me and I feel really good when I'm with him."

"You have sex with him."

"Not all the time. Occasionally. Maybe four or five times total. Like I said, he's nice to me…and not like Dean at all. Cas is just safe, you know? When you're with him, it's like he's a shield from all that bad stuff outside."

Jo knew exactly what she meant. She and Ellen had been hunting a particularly nasty creature with Castiel and Dean a couple months after Jo had started seeing Dean regularly. Both Dean and Ellen had insisted Jo and Cas pair up. While it was clear to Jo at the time that Ellen thought Jo and Castiel wouldn't find the creature, thus ensuring their safety and leaving the hard work for Ellen and Dean, she'd never been sure of Dean's reasoning. More of the same maybe? He'd always had a big thing about keeping people safe, especially those he professed to care about. Jo and Castiel _had_ found the creature however, one of those fluke happenings where they'd turned a corner and there it was. She would have been filleted if Cas hadn't used that angel physical strength to haul the creature off her. That burst of strength had been the last of that particular ability, leaving him drained and shaking, but giving her enough to time kill it. Right then, though, Jo had felt what Melanie described: utter safety in his presence, despite the very real danger.

"You know about his past?" How much did any of the people in the camp know about him? If she understood correctly, they seemed to know all about her, so why not him, too?

Melanie pursed her lips. "Well…. The rumor about camp is that he was like a priest or something and lost his faith." Her eyes widened and she sat up straight. "You knew him before, right? Is it true? Was he a priest? Did you know him when he was still, like, a holy man?"

A holy man. There was a sad humor in that explanation people had drummed up about Castiel. Jo sighed. If no one knew the truth about him, it wasn't her place to tell it. "He was different then. We all were."

"How different? Because I can't imagine him any other way than how he is now."

Jo didn't know how to explain it so that Melanie would understand without giving away what he'd been. She thought a moment, considering the words she felt best described how he'd been back then. "He was focused, intense, and almost like a force of nature. The mission he was on cost him everything in the end, his family, friends, job, even his identity." If she wanted to continue trying to explain past Cas, Melanie would be a rapt audience, watching Jo like she was a professional storyteller in the middle of a fascinating story. Instead, she shook her head. "What's there to do here? Cas told me some things the day I got here, but I don't really remember anything he said."

"You want a tour? We could do that. I'll take you over to meet a few people. I'll introduce you to Emily and Alexis and Jack and we can stop in and see Chuck."

She let Melanie plan their afternoon without interruption, waiting for the young woman to wind down into something a bit more realistic than her initial ideas of hiking back and forth all over the place.

"Maybe just a trip over to see Chuck? That might be better. I mean, you just got out of bed after three days. You should get your strength back before we see the whole camp. The supply cabin isn't very far and he's got chairs there you can rest in if you need to."

As though Jo was frail. She might have laughed at that thought if she hadn't been feeling a little shaky by the time they reached the other cabin. Three days in bed did take a toll, Jo gladly sinking into the chair Melanie led her to, then looking around the cabin.

It was well-organized in rows of shelves and cabinets, somewhat like a grocery store was. She saw shelves with clothing, shelves with food, and crude bins that looked like they had pillows and bedding in them. Some areas were sparse and others bursting. To one side was a makeshift desk, where clipboards were set out in a row.

A man came from the back with another clipboard, startled to see them, then hurrying forward. "Oh hey, hi. Jo, right? I'm Chuck. It's nice to finally see your face. I mean, meet you in person." After a moment of studying her, he added. "You're close to what I pictured, though I had the shape of your face a little wrong." He nodded to Melanie. "Mel, you're just in time. Can you run over to Emily and get her pantry request list? She didn't have it quite ready earlier and it'd save me a trip later." When Melanie had gone on the errand, Chuck pulled a chair up to Jo and joined her. "Um…I'm sorry about Ellen. I really liked her. She was an amazing woman."

"You knew my mom?" Jo wasn't as surprised as she could have been. Her mother had known people from all over the country.

"Well…" He glanced down at the floor and back up. "Not personally. I wrote…. Did…did Dean ever mention…um…This is going to sound weird if he didn't…"

"Yeah?" Her curiosity was piqued now. "Spit it out."

"Did he mention a prophet to you?"

Jo thought back. She did have a vague remembrance of Dean and Castiel talking about some prophet, a conversation that hadn't made much sense to her. At the time, she'd assumed they were discussing someone historical or even hypothetical considering the modern name…. Chuck. They'd called the prophet Chuck. Had they been discussing this man? Jo studied him. He didn't look like a prophet, but then…what did a prophet look like? "Chuck the prophet. There was a mention a couple times." Dean rarely used actual names for things like that, coming up with sometimes wholly inappropriate nicknames. It would have been just like him to take the name of some Old Testament prophet and decide he'd rather call him something else.

"_I'm_ Chuck. I wasn't sure if he mentioned me or not. Dean can be unpredictable and I only saw up to the middle of your relationship. After that it just faded like they used to do in old movies. Fade to black, you know?"

"Excuse me? You saw our relationship?" Jo felt like she was lurching from one 'what the hell' moment to the next. Was he serious?

"In visions."

"What all did you see?" She narrowed her eyes, speculating on just what he could have seen her and Dean doing. How detailed did his visions get? Was he talking in general terms or in full triple X? For the second time in a single day, Jo's face flushed from embarrassment.

"More than I wanted to see, believe me. Once I knew it was all real, the sex scenes started making me really uncomfortable."

Made _him_ uncomfortable? Oh geez. Jo crossed her arms and looked away. "So what you're saying is you saw Dean and I having sex in your visions."

"In some, not all. But back to what I was trying to get to…. I wrote a series of books based on my visions, and some of them included you and Ellen, though the whole Roadhouse storyline ended up not being published. I had to skip over most of it, but I really liked you and Ellen. I thought you were characters, you know, and there was so much potential for you both story-wise…." He paused, swallowing hard. "But you're real and I'm very sorry about your mom, Jo. I feel like I know you both a little from the visions."

While she didn't doubt it was truth, it was more than she felt able or even willing to process right now. "Books. Storyline. Right." She stood and went to the door. "It was nice to meet you Chuck, but I think I have to go now."

"No, no, Jo wait!" He stood.

"No, I can't…I can't deal with this right now." She saw him stepping towards her and was out the door in seconds, hurrying down the steps and along the path.

"I'm sorry I freaked you out," he called after her.

Freaked her out? It went beyond a freak-out. It was too much to deal with, too soon. She was ready to crawl back in bed and drag the covers over her head for awhile just to get Chuck's revelation out of her mind. Did his visions count as mental voyeurism? She was sick to her stomach just thinking about it.

Back at the cabin, she found that Castiel had returned. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes opening when she stepped through the bead strands. He smiled.

"Welcome back. I'm glad you went out for awhile."

Jo sank down across from him, also sitting cross-legged. Her knees almost touched his. "Melanie's going to think I ran out on her, but…it turns out I wasn't quite ready to meet Chuck."

"She'll understand." He leaned forward, peering at her with a curious glint in his eyes. "Did he tell you about the books?"

"He did."

Cas shook his head. "Too soon," he murmured and sat back up. "He should have waited."

"Or not said anything at all. He the real deal? I remember you and Dean mentioned him a couple times."

"If you mean was he a prophet, then yes, he was the 'real deal'. His ability is gone now." Leaning back on his hands, he asked, "Care to meet a few more people?"

"Not particularly, but if I have to I will. I'm still a little freaked out by Chuck."

"So gracious." His teeth flashed in a quick grin. "It'll be quick. Alexis and Maggie are coming by to drop-off your cleaned, mended clothes and to change the sheets. You might as well meet them. They won't stay long."

Both women looked to be about Jo's age. Alexis had long dark hair caught back in a loose braid while Maggie had short honey blond hair that kept falling into her eyes no matter how many times she pushed it back. While they were friendly, Jo decided she liked Melanie the best of the three.

He was right that the visit would be quick, the two women not tarrying in their tasks and soon they were gone, leaving Jo and Cas alone.

Jo liked being alone with him and was amazed at how quickly she felt at ease with him. There was a huge difference in being alone with him and being alone with Dean. With Castiel, Jo didn't feel the tension she now felt with Dean. It was easy to pick that book up that she'd been reading earlier and become lost in the plot because Cas didn't appear to mind that she read. Dean had always inundated her with questions -- What are you reading? Is it good? Any strange twists? You like that author? Cas, however, snagged a book from the pile and took the other end of the couch, stretching out.

It was a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, with only the sounds of the pages being turned. A few times, Jo looked up to watch him while he read. She couldn't quite get over how different he looked with the beard. Had he grown it to distance himself from who he'd been? Or was it frustration over shaving every day? She shifted position again and flipped a page.

She could get used to this.

* * *

Cas coaxed her into taking a walk with him. It wasn't supposed to be any long hike, merely a slow stroll over to the dining hall, yet her first question made him rethink that plan.

"What happened to Jimmy? That was his name, right?"

Thinking about Jimmy depressed him. It was cruel for Jimmy to have been left with Cas when none of Cas's actions were Jimmy's fault or doing. He should have been taken away to his final rest. Instead, Jimmy was punished for being a devout man. There was nothing right in it. Jimmy had done everything the angels asked of him. Why did they punish him for it? Was it only because of Castiel or was the general regard for humanity just that low?

He knew the answer. Zachariah and Uriel's view on humans were the average ones. Jimmy had been left because they'd not thought it worth the time to show mercy to him before leveling their last spiteful punishment on Castiel.

Sliding his hands in his jeans pockets, he balled them into fists, trying to force himself from sinking into a bad mood over poor Jimmy. If he didn't nip it now, it'd only keep building. "He's still in here, reduced to the occasional voice in my head. When my powers started going, I lost the ability to let him surface fully. Half of the time, I don't even know he's awake until he says something." He looked down at the ground, then sideways at her. "How long are you going to avoid fully facing what happened?"

She copied his expression and pose. "How long are you," she returned, lips twitching into a wry smile.

"Mmm. Touché." He started walking down the path. If Jo followed, good. The exercise and fresh air would be good for her. If she returned to the cabin, he'd try again tomorrow. He'd only gone a few steps before she was back at his side. Cas chose to continue the topic she'd introduced as though he hadn't asked that question. "Sometimes I wonder what we'd be like today if he'd been half surfaced when the powers went. Would we be this schizophrenic mix of the two of us?"

People passed them, Alexis among them. She was jogging and focused on it, lost in her thoughts.

Jo matched his stride. "Split personality type thing? One dominant personality running things? You mean like that?"

"Maybe."

Jo flashed a teasing grin up at him, even batting her eyelashes at him a few seconds. "Are you the dominant type, Cas?"

He chuckled, one shoulder lifting in a half shrug. "I can be." Reaching out, he drew her right hand from her pocket and held it in his. "Do you _want_ me to be?"

Her smile faded in slow degrees, her teeth dragging along her lower lip. "Maybe." She looked away. "Let me think on that."

She didn't pull away. Hand in hand, they walked the perimeter of the camp, the same path the watch teams took, stopping when they reached the dining hall.

"Shall we go in?"

Before she could answer, the doors opened, Chuck and Dean coming down the steps. She watched Dean, but he didn't even glance their way, heading off towards the shooting range. In a few seconds, her mood had plummeted, apparent in the tension that pulled her shoulders up and the hurt that returned to her eyes.

"I can bring you something if you'd rather go back to the cabin," he offered.

Jo tugged her hand from his with a nod. "I think I'd rather, if that's okay."

"It's fine. Any preference or shall I pick something?"

"I don't care. Anything. I trust you."

Cas waited until she'd disappeared back down the path before entering the building. Dean was going to be disappointed if he assumed Jo was going to be ready to rejoin the fight any time soon. She was hardly behaving like a woman wanting to go back to hunting.

* * *

Dean hated meetings, especially those management type ones necessary for a smooth running of the camp. With Bobby dead and Castiel higher than a kite most days, it fell to him as leader to okay everything. While he delegated as much as he could, Dean still had to look at an awful lot of boring details. Some days he thought he could handle the meetings better if he could bang his head against the nearest hard surface until his brains spilled out.

Chuck was a bright spot in camp management, efficient in his area to the point that Dean wondered where the old Chuck had gone. What had happened to the man who'd sat around in his bathrobe muttering bits of real dialogue while fast food containers threatened to topple over onto him? It had taken the Apocalypse to bring out his true skills in organization. Chuck ran that supply cabin better than Dean ever could. He had it down to an art form.

As the meeting progressed and began to wind down, he glanced at Melanie, watched her arrange cookies on the plates and check the coffee urn. As nervous as she always was, when setting up the room for these bi-monthly meetings she was in her element. She was good at providing a calm, even friendly, yet professional atmosphere. It was an impressive talent, her training showing through. If the world hadn't become Lucifer's playground, Dean thought she would have been successful in her chosen field.

Once the meeting was done, he remained in his seat, pretending to look over the papers Chuck had handed him while really studying Melanie. He decided he liked her better with her hair down about her shoulders, not pulled back like it was today. The severe style was too harsh. Dean drank the last of his coffee and wondered why she cried so easily. What was there in her past that made her that way? Cas could probably tell him, but he didn't feel like asking Cas.

He cleared his throat. "Melanie."

Cookies scattered across the table, the plate in her hand clattering onto it. She winced. "I'm sorry. It's my fault --"

"Don't worry about putting those away. Slap 'em on a plate and bring it over here. I'll eat them. I'll take more coffee, too, if there is any."

Her hands shook, the cookies sliding on the plate she set in front of him, nearly spilling again. Luckily, she didn't spill the coffee, choosing to fill one of the insulated carafes for him. He nibbled at an oatmeal raisin cookie as she cleaned up, waiting for her to finish. The plan was to offer her a cookie off the plate and maybe coax her into talking for a minute, but she hurried out as though he'd yelled at her. The door banged shut behind her.

Weird.

Dean shook his head. Maybe another time. He rubbed the aching spot on the bridge of his nose with two fingers and began to go through Chuck's report.

* * *

A few more days passed, Jo beginning to settle into a sort of routine. She'd wake up, discover Cas already gone, and get dressed. Next up was breakfast with Melanie. They took a walk after eating, visited with various people and soon it was time for lunch. Cas joined them and sometimes Alexis and others were there as well. The afternoon was Jo's usually, with Castiel coming in for a few minutes here and there. She wasn't sure what he did all day.

She rarely saw Dean and when she did, it was almost like he didn't notice her there. He was always looking the other way. In a strange way, Jo found that funny. While he'd cared enough to run and save her a final time, he didn't care enough to talk to her.

Maybe she didn't want to talk to him either.

Jo closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the couch, only to open them again at Castiel's question.

"Do you like children?"

In the past, she'd once had a guy ask that before revealing he had an entire future mapped out for them that included three kids, a house in the suburbs, and the sort of daily routine that would have made her run screaming for the hills. Somehow, she suspected Castiel wasn't leading up to such a revelation. "Yeah, I guess. I've never spent much time with any."

Unlike other girls, Jo had never desired to spend her time babysitting. Her choice of teen job had been working at the Roadhouse.

He was leaning against the doorframe, looking for all the world as though it was the only thing holding him upright.

"They're watching a movie today in the main lodge. You could join them. There'll be popcorn and Emily always tries to make something special for them. I think they're watching Wall-E. It won't be just the kids there. A few adults go too. You won't be out of place."

It didn't take a genius to figure out he wanted her to leave the cabin for awhile, yet didn't want to tell her to go. "Tired of me already," she teased, getting up and going to him.

He took her seriously, grasping her arms with his hands and shaking his head, concern etched on his face. His hands slid along her bare skin, a soft caress up and down her arms. "No, of course not, Jo. I like having you here. I find your company to be quite enjoyable."

"But you do want me to leave for a couple hours."

"More like three. You could stay if you like, though it could be uncomfortable for you if you're not participating."

"Oh." She leaned against the wall. "That's today." It hadn't occurred to her that he held those here. Silly, she told herself. Where else would he have them? "No, I won't stay. It's not my thing."

"I know." He laid one forearm on the wall beside her and leaned against it, body brushing hers. "If you change your mind, you're welcome to join us."

His pupils were dilated and Jo took that in, processed it along with his relaxed manner and amiable expression, connecting the dots. "Are you high?"

He grinned, a slow stretch of his lips. "A little."

"How can you be a little high? You either are or aren't."

"You take a _little_ something." Raising his other hand, he illustrated with thumb and forefinger about an inch apart.

She laughed. "Okay. I'll, uh, get out of your way here and come back in three hours or so." A few minutes later she was almost to the main lodge, studying it as she approached. 'Main lodge' sounded so grand and huge that the reality was a bit disappointing. The lodge was merely one of the bigger cabins that was a large open room with bathrooms and a small kitchenette at one end. It was at the heart of the camp, a United States flag waving from a pole in front of it. Someone had taken a tire and used it as a planter for wildflowers beside the pole.

The tv inside was left on all the time, even after the stations stopped broadcasting most hours. The static on the screen was muted, sound turned on only during broadcast hours or when, like today, a movie was being shown. Jo wondered if the big satellite dish outside picked up the news feeds before they officially aired. Cas had told her that Dean had someone monitoring the stations for whatever news the government deemed fit to release. Others monitored the radio, though there'd been little there save static for weeks.

Today, the tv was for the movie, people and children already in the room. The children had blankets on the floor up by the tv and there were plenty of folding chairs for adults. Jo took some popcorn and a glass of sun tea even though she really didn't want either, and found a chair at the very back of the room near the door. She stayed for half the movie, not really interested in it or in talking to any of the people present.

Leaving the building, she took a direction she'd yet to explore, following the path around through the woods. Jo took her time, enjoying the journey since she didn't know the destination. As the path wound about, she caught a glimpse of a small pond, water glinting in the sun. The scents of earth, pine, and flowering vines were soothing, Jo taking one deep breath after another. Her steps slowed as another person came into view, standing at the end of the path, looking down at the water.

Dean.

He turned, stared at her. His hands were in his jeans pockets, shoulders hunched. There was no welcoming light in his eyes, merely an acknowledgment that she was there. They stood that way for long minutes, staring at each other, Jo trying to figure out once more why he'd behaved the way he had on the drive here. No answers presented themselves, the hurt remaining. There was so much pain inside her from his behavior towards her that she wanted to beat his head against a tree until he told her why he hadn't held her or comforted her the tiniest little bit.

When had he become such a jerk?

"Jo."

Her lips parted and she crossed her arms, waiting. Once, he would have come to her, slowly drawing her into an embrace that was gentle and reassuring. His lips would press against her temple and he'd hold her, one arm bracing her, the other stroking along her back. She'd turn her face into the base of his throat and breathe the familiar scent of his aftershave.

She desperately wanted that now. No, she _needed_ it. Jo needed to see that glimpse of how he'd once been, to know that man was still in there somewhere. She needed to be held by him.

He took two steps closer. "You know, you could thank me for saving you and bringing you back here."

Jo blinked, eyes going wide as disbelief shot through her. For a moment, she thought she'd heard him wrong. _Those_ were the words he chose to say to her after ignoring her for days? Was he really expecting thanks right now? Did he honestly have no idea how much his reticence to touch her those three days they'd traveled had cut into her? He might as well have ripped a knife through her gut. Not to mention that she'd lost her _mother_ in one of the most horrific ways possible.

Yet he wanted her thanks? Not that she was ungrateful, because she was glad to be alive. It was just the wrong thing for him to say and the wrong time to say it.

"I came for you, Jo. When you called."

Ellen had called, not Jo. She remembered her mother making that decision, trying over and over until the call went through, telling Jo that no matter what had happened between them, she knew Dean would always care for Jo. Ellen knew he'd come after them.

"Say something."

She touched her tongue to her upper lip and shook her head before holding her hands up in a 'back-off' gesture.

"Are you…" His eyes narrowed, head tilting. She saw surprise and anger slip across his features. "Are you _refusing_ to talk to me?"

She shrugged, nodded.

"Oh come on. Don't be a bitch."

It was the wrong thing to say once more and he should have known it. Jo whirled and returned down the path, running when she thought she heard him pursuing. She kept running until she couldn't run anymore, sinking to the ground beside a truck and crying for all that was lost to her. Her sides ached, head pounding. She cried for her mother, for herself, and for Dean; for what had once been and couldn't ever be again; for circumstances far beyond their control that had led them all to the present. Her mother was dead, Sam was gone, Dean was a man she barely recognized, and Jo never wanted to hunt ever again.

When she finally wiped her eyes and looked up, she wasn't far from Castiel's cabin. Three women stepped from it, talking and laughing quietly to each other. They didn't notice her, which was fine with Jo. A glance at her watch showed that the three hours Cas had requested were up. While she didn't recall the time passing, it obviously had. She sniffed and stood, walking the rest of the way to the steps and slowly up them. Inside, the curtains at the alcove to the bed were closed, a rustling of cloth coming from behind it. Jo stayed still, just inside the bead strands. Her temples were throbbing, her eyes felt hot and achy and it seemed that every muscle in her body screamed for rest.

Cas parted the curtain and tied one side back, turning his head to look at her as he did. "She's still asleep," he told her in a low voice. He was half dressed, jeans slung low, motioning for her to come in.

"Who?" She moved into the room.

"Melanie. She always falls asleep and she's a bear to wake so I let her sleep." He moved to the center of the room and stretched, twisting this way and that. Jo heard his back pop several times. "Alexis gets keyed up, Katie and Steph chill, Amanda likes to talk, and Maggie --"

"Cas, I don't need to hear all about them."

"Just in case you come back early you'll know what to expect." He reached for his shirt and paused, gaze returning to her. "You've been crying. What happened?" Abandoning the shirt, he came to her, enfolding her in his arms like she'd hoped Dean would do, doing that very same kiss to her temple Dean would have done once upon a time. "Tell me."

Jo burst into fresh tears, arms going around him, holding him to her. His skin was hot to touch, with the scents of several perfumes mingled on it. She didn't care. He held her -- the very thing Jo wanted and needed.

In his arms, she was safe.

* * *

It came out all wrong. He'd said it the wrong way and she'd misunderstood, refusing to say one word to him or even stay long enough for an explanation. As more days passed, bringing Jo's days in the camp up to fifteen, she continued to say nothing to him while talking to everyone else around them.

She gave him the silent treatment.

It pissed him off and Dean reacted without thinking.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 5  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

The supply cabin was where Dean's temper over Jo's voice began to crack. It wasn't a big thing that made him start to lose it, but rather a tiny thing that shouldn't have caused a breaking point.

Chuck and Castiel were making up the team lists, having divided the requests into camp necessity, personal necessity, and frivolous items. They took those piles of requests and a store map of wherever the next raid was planned for, and plotted a quick, efficient path to obtain the items, focusing on necessities first. Dean hardly paid attention anymore to the process, as Chuck had it perfected.

He waited for them to finish and hand him the finished plan to look over, his thoughts moving from one subject to another in no particular order: Emily had that last piece of apple pie squirreled away for him to eat with coffee later in the afternoon, that tiny cabin on the other side of camp needed repairs to be usable, he was really in the mood to sit with a six pack of beer and watch Die Hard movies all day instead of this leadership crap. Smothering a yawn with one hand, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, so tired of being tired that it wasn't funny. If he didn't get a good night's sleep soon, he was going to go postal and --

Chuck asked about Jo, and all of Dean's frustrations with her silence reared up. She was going to talk to him one way or another. His ultimatum had both men staring at him as though he'd lost his mind.

Maybe he finally had.

* * *

Truth be told, Castiel rather liked working up the request lists. He found it relaxing to tally up the items needed in columns and organize the information into something workable. Doing that was better than being one of the ones going out on raids and missions, though he still did that from time to time. This morning, he slipped in a few requests of his own, including a bottle of shampoo for Jo. She'd run out of that trial sized sample and while he'd told her to go ahead and use his, the bottle was going to be empty soon with both of them using it.

As if they were on the same wavelength, Chuck looked over at him, "Hey, Cas, does Jo need anything?" His pen was poised over the papers on his clipboard. "She never came in for refills, so I was wondering if she'd made it all stretch this long. She should be needing something soon I'd think, even if it's just…female stuff."

Castiel shook his head. While she'd asked about the procedure for procuring more soap and shampoo, she hadn't indicated actually wanting more yet. Chuck was right though. Unless her cycle was messed up, Jo would need 'female stuff' very soon. "Nothing that she's mentioned to me, but we should probably --"

"Tell her if she wants anything she can go out on the raid." Dean stepped forward, lips tight and nostrils flaring. A sure sign of anger, but Cas wasn't sure why he was angry.

He exchanged a perplexed glance with Chuck. "She's not ready," he pointed out, something Dean would know if he'd been paying attention to Cas's reports on her every couple days. Jo was hardly near the point of stepping outside the camp fence for two minutes, let alone going on a raid. She'd shown no interest in any aspect of those skills necessary for being outside the camp for any length of time, spending her time reading, talking with him, putting puzzles together with Melanie or playing card games. As far as he knew, she'd avoided the shooting range and other areas Dean had set up for training those interested in going on raids and missions.

"If she's not, then she can tell me that herself. I'll listen." In three strides, Dean was to them, snatching the clipboard from Chuck and looking it over. "I'll listen long and hard to whatever she wants to tell me."

"You can't force her to be ready to go out, Dean. She's _healing_, not healed. It'll take more than a couple weeks and even then she might never be ready."

"Oh wait." Dean met Cas's eyes, talking as though Castiel hadn't said a word. "She doesn't actually talk to me." He shrugged. "Guess she's SOL for basic supplies…unless she wants to loosen her lips any."

Castiel raised his brows, mulling over the order and wondering if Dean had considered the sheer stupidity of it. Everyone needed the basics. They'd never denied anyone that unless there were no supplies to be had. "Let me get this straight. You're forbidding her to pick up toiletries unless she goes on the raid?"

"Yes."

"You refuse to let her have shampoo, soap, and all the basic things a woman needs unless she talks to you, reducing her to _begging_ you for them?" He was careful to choose that word 'begging' and emphasize it to try and ram home to Dean what the order he was issuing really meant.

He flushed a little, but stood his ground on the issue, raising his chin a notch. While the set of his jaw indicated he would hold his position with all of the stubbornness in his body, his response was late enough that Cas knew Dean realized he was being unreasonable. "Yes."

Chuck backed away from them. As usual, he preferred to flee in the face of a possible physical altercation rather than stay. "I'm…uh…going to check on…something." He left the building with hasty steps.

"Okay." Cas nodded. "Let me be the first to tell you that that's a stupid idea. It's quite possibly one of the stupidest you've ever had. You know Jo. You know how she reacts. If you think she's upset with you now, you implement this and you might never hear her voice again in friendly conversation with you. It's coercion, Dean. Dirty tactics. It's forcing her to do something against her will. You can't force her and expect things to get better between you."

"You got a problem with it?" He jerked his thumb at the front of the cabin. "There's the door."

Granted, he could see that Dean was hurting and the hurt was causing this order, but it seemed far too drastic. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Tell her to come see me when she's ready to talk. She's been here half a month…. I'll give her about another week before she _really_ needs those basics."

"Take a minute and think about this." Already, he could think of several ways around that order and waited for Dean to think of them, too, tapping his pen on the clipboard in his hands. "Do you honestly want her to speak to you because you're making her? Wouldn't you rather sit down with her and be able to talk freely at least some day in the future?"

Dean set down that clipboard he'd taken from Chuck and rested his hands on the table, his head down. "I'd love to. Can you convince her to do that?"

It was Jo's decision to talk to Dean. Castiel couldn't make her and refused to try. "No."

"Then relay the message." Dean turned his head, glancing over his shoulder.

The call was a bad one to make. In Dean's present mood, there'd be no changing his mind. Instead of trying, Cas nodded. "I'll tell her."

"Tell her now. I'll wait."

As he'd predicted, Jo's reaction to the ultimatum was speechless shock, then white-hot anger. Her hand shook as she wrote out a list on a slip of paper.

"He wants words," she said, shoving her hair back from her forehead, "I'll give him a few choice ones."

He didn't follow her back to the supply cabin. He suspected he'd be able to hear the resulting explosion from right where he was.

* * *

If Dean was trying for the biggest jackass award, he was a shoo in.

Jo stalked to the supply cabin, muttering under her breath the entire way, a list in hand of things she was going to need very soon, as in only a couple days. She went up the steps into it and over to where Dean was waiting, slamming the list down onto the table and resting her hand on it.

"I'm not ready. Screw you. Who the hell do you think you are? Quit being such a damn insensitive prick. What gives you the right to tell me I can't have shampoo, or toothpaste…or tampons? What's wrong with you? You bring me here, barely say a word to me and then expect me to chat and thank you when you couldn't be bothered comforting me after I lost my mother? My mother, Dean! After I watched her torn apart? Jerk. Completely self-centered, tactless, moronic jackass. You're lucky I don't punch you." She stepped back, holding up her hands. They shook from the force of her anger. "There. I talked. Happy now?"

"Yes."

"Good," she snapped, hands curling into fists as she reigned her temper in further. If she let herself, she'd start punching him and right now, she really didn't want to get into it with him. She didn't want to start something she wasn't ready to actually finish.

"Good. Anything else?"

Now she crossed her arms and pursed her lips, intent on giving him silence once more.

"That's it? That's all you're going to say to me?"

Raising a brow, she directed her best 'you're such an ass' stare his way.

She watched his stony expression ease the barest fraction, his head dipping in a nod. "Fine. I'll see you get these."

Lips tight, Jo turned to go and stopped before she'd gone five steps, surprised by the request he suddenly blurted out.

* * *

He couldn't say she hadn't fulfilled the terms of his order, for she had. She'd talked, telling him in no uncertain terms the sort of dick he was being.

She was absolutely right.

Disgust at his actions filled him as he watched her walk away and he tried, belatedly, to fix his gaffe. "Jo." When she stopped, back to him, he continued, glad she didn't just keep walking for once. "If you're not ready to go out, maybe you could give Chuck a hand in here, look over the set-up. I remember Ellen used to run a pretty tight ship at the Roadhouse and you learned it all. I'm sure you've got a few pointers you can share. Maybe a change in procedure or set-up or something."

He paused, attempting to get a feel for her mood. Had she softened at all? Was she still beyond pissed? Once, he would have gone to her, slowly sliding his fingers down her spine until he reached her waist, hand moving to rest on her hip. He'd bend, breathe a quiet 'I'm sorry. Forgive me?' into her ear and wait for her to relax back against him. When she did, he'd turn her and kiss her, all the while wondering why she kept forgiving him because he knew he didn't deserve it.

Dean couldn't afford that now. He couldn't let anyone close because tomorrow he might just have to kill them. Like he had Bobby. "Your help would be appreciated." The words were stilted and awkward in his mouth. "Please."

She was slow to glance back at him. Was she remembering too? After a long moment, she nodded her consent to the suggestion and started for the door again.

Dean didn't want the genial mood to end, for he knew it was only a lull. They'd never been very good at calm discourse. Those mild arguments they'd had, like the one in Philadelphia over her staying there, were only the beginning. Once they'd begun seeing each other in earnest, the arguments had escalated. Jo had that instinctive urge to fight against anything she thought unfair or wrong and Dean…. After Sam, he'd found it harder and harder not to argue, leaning far on the end of sarcasm and cynicism. Put the two together and they exploded. "Jo."

She'd reached the door, hand on the knob.

"I miss her too." His voice broke, cracking on the last word, the tight grip he had on his emotions slipping.

Jo's head bowed for the space of two breaths before she opened the door and left.

The admission brought on a crashing wave of sorrow. He wished he'd been able to save Ellen; that she was here with them. She'd been like a mother to him.

An ache began to rise in his chest and he swallowed hard, willing it away, refusing to collapse in a quivering puddle of helpless tears. He didn't have time to wallow in sadness. There were other things he had to do and an entire camp of people to care for. There was nothing he could do for the dead.

It was the living who needed him.

* * *

Two days later, Cas returned from the supply cabin with a large paper sack, pulling out the items inside and setting them on the bed. Everything she'd asked for was there. Shampoo, soap, safety razor, toothpaste, tampons. "That's everything, right?"

"Yeah." She sat on the edge of the bed and contemplated the items. "Why is he acting like this?"

Cas sat beside her, putting an arm around her and nudging her head onto his shoulder. "Too little sleep, too much all over pain, too much responsibility. Take your pick."

It wasn't anything she didn't already know, the same story from when they'd been together only on a much larger scale. The world had not let Dean Winchester relax. His responsibilities had only grown as the world raced towards the conclusion of Lucifer's plan.

For a week, Jo spent her days with Chuck. He apologized profusely for what he'd told her the day they'd met. She got the feeling he was just one of those guys who had a hard time talking to women. A little shy maybe.

She learned about the process of acquiring supplies from beginning to end, scrutinized his shelving system, and learned every bit of information he had to share, which ended up being far more than she'd anticipated. He told her about the generators, showed her where they were and how to run them if needed. Melanie was there most days and Cas clarified a few points on labeling the requests that Chuck had been too vague on. When that week was over, Jo knew she could run the supply process if she had to.

During the entire time, Jo watched Dean interact with those around him, coming to the conclusion that Dean didn't want anything deeper from anyone. Even if the two of them had waited until now, they still wouldn't have worked. She was just as changed as Dean. What she wanted, love and comfort, he was now fully unable to give her. He'd locked that part of himself away.

The only thing he could offer her was protection from the world outside as long as there was breath in his body.

She continued to stay with Castiel, a little surprised he hadn't made a single mention of her living elsewhere. He really did appear to enjoy having her there all hours of day and night, a thing that made her feel good. She liked how he would drop everything to hold her and how she woke up snuggled against him. She enjoyed the touch of his hands on her skin. He somehow made even the most innocent of touches seem intimate.

When she'd first met him, she hadn't felt a single pull of sexual attraction, yet here, now, she experienced a jolt of desire at the oddest times. Like when he was sprawled on the couch or bed reading a book, his profile to her. Or when he laughed at a joke someone had told, his laugh pure warmth. Or when she woke up at four a.m. with him asleep beside her, features relaxed. She'd watch him, wanting to run her fingertips across his lips and cover his mouth with her own. What would he do if she did just that?

Jo imagined he'd respond, kissing her back. He'd do what he already did: he'd take her in his arms and make her feel like she was the only woman in the world.

* * *

He was physically attracted to Jo.

The revelation wasn't sudden, nor was it surprising. Jo was a beautiful woman.

Castiel's dreams at night had become largely sexual, pleasurable instead of the nightmares he'd been facing. He dreamed of Jo, waking several times with the strong urge to roll over and take her, to bury himself inside her.

The effort to restrain himself was great, but he reminded himself that it was her decision. He wasn't going to push her.

He endured that sexual tension rising between them, enjoyed the experience and wondered just how long they could drag it out before succumbing.

* * *

Happiness was irrelevant in the world they lived in. Dean knew it. There was no happy ending on the horizon unless he found the Colt and killed Lucifer and since that didn't appear to be coming anytime soon, happiness meant nothing. Still, he wanted Jo to be happy. He wanted to see her smile again; to hurry her healing along instead of hindering it as he seemed to do every time he opened his mouth around her, so he backed off.

He let her go her way and he went his, continuing to receive reports from Cas on her every couple days. There were afternoons where he thought about all those things she'd liked, mentally running down that list in an attempt to think of a gift he could give her that might make her happy. When he decided he'd found a good one, he went on a raid with Chuck's team, packaging up the item he'd picked up himself rather than letting Chuck and his helpers do it.

"Here, Chuck." He handed the bag to him. "Give this to Jo."

"You're sure?" Chuck was confused, brows drawing together, holding the bag like he thought there was a bomb inside it.

"What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I'm sure. Give the bag to Jo."

"Sure. Yeah. Okay. It's just that…you gave that order…."

"It's rescinded. Besides, this isn't something she absolutely needs."

Understanding glinted in his eyes. "Oh, so it's a present." He nodded, jerking his thumb behind him. "I've got some real wrapping paper if you'd rather wrap it up properly --"

"Just give it to her. No wrapping paper, just the bag."

He stuck around, waiting outside, pretending to be occupied with the engine of one of the vehicles there until he heard Chuck call out to Jo. He'd known she'd be along eventually. Her afternoon walks usually brought her this way. Going around back, he went through that door, careful not to make any noise to alert her to his presence. He watched her open the bag and draw out the present, straining to hear their voices, but they both talked so low that he only heard a word here and there. Her smile made his day…until it faded and she told Chuck to shelve his gift. She wouldn't accept it.

She wouldn't accept it because it was from him.

Raising a hand, he ran it through his hair, teeth biting into his lip so hard he tasted blood. He wanted to step out there and demand she explain, but instead he stole away before either of them noticed him.

* * *

Aimless wandering was the goal for the day, Jo giving Castiel some time alone with Maggie and Alexis. She was passing by the supply cabin when she heard Chuck calling to her.

"Watcha need," she asked, crossing the lot to him. Help perhaps? He had to be overflowing with items now, the team that had gone out returning with everything that had been requested and more. He was probably still trying to sort through it all.

"I, uh, I got something in here for you." One hand beckoned and Jo followed him inside the cabin.

Odd. She'd refrained from asking for anything more than what she needed. Chuck's job was hard enough without her adding to it with silly demands for things she didn't need. "I didn't ask for anything. With all the others asking, I figured why add to your stress."

"No, I know. It wasn't you." He went to a pile of request bags and sorted through them, finally picking up one and holding it out to her.

She took it. "Did Cas get me something?"

"No, it wasn't him."

Jo waited for a further explanation, but he appeared hesitant to give her one, his gaze moving away from her and about the room like he couldn't decide where to look. Opening the bag, she drew out the contents: a large bottle of sesame body oil. It wasn't Neutrogena brand, a generic instead, but it was basically the same thing.

Chuck's voice was soft, halting. "It was Dean. He went with the team on the raid and came back with that especially for you. It's a gift. I think it's an apology, though he didn't say it was."

She held the bottle in her hands, staring down at it. "He remembered." Jo hadn't thought he would, though she should have known. He'd liked to watch her smooth the oil over her skin right after her shower, a habit that sometimes caused her to need another shower a little while later after he got all worked up. She smiled at the pleasant memory.

"Well, he did try for months to memorize every little thing about you."

"You know about that?" After they'd fought and made up, Dean would make a verbal list of everything he knew she liked. He'd start with food, work his way through popular culture and toiletries, and when he finished, he'd kiss her and tell her he was sorry for whatever it was he'd done that time. She'd forgive him. She always did, except for that last time.

Not once had he promised not to do it again.

Her smile faded and she flipped open the lid, sniffing the oil. It had been a long time since she'd used any. After they'd broken up for good, she'd always associated the oil with Dean and with that endless circle of fighting and making up. Jo sighed, closing the cap and setting the bottle on the desk.

"Put it on the shelves. I can't take this, Chuck."

"It's a gift."

"It's a reminder of how things were. Sweet on the outside…" she folded the paper sack neatly and laid it on the desk as well, "…not quite right inside. Someone else can enjoy it. I can't."

The bittersweet gift put her in a melancholy mood, something Cas picked up on that evening. He didn't invite anyone over for cards or anything, letting her set the tone for the evening. Jo lounged on the bed, watching him replace the candles that had burned down too far to relight.

"For so long I wanted to be tough. Then I had to. Now, I don't want to be. I want to let someone else do the fighting. Does that make sense?"

His glance turned to her, then back to the candles. "Yes." With a long taper, he began to light them, one by one, until the room was well-lit. "It's okay to let the others do the fighting out there. It's okay to want to step back."

"What I want and what I feel are two different things. I _feel_ like I should be out there."

"You feel an obligation instilled inside you years ago." When he turned to look at her, his expression was a bit sad, the candlelight darkening his eyes. "If you're patient, it can…fade…until what you want eclipses the feeling."

"Fade," she began, leaning back on her hands. "You mean like a former angel not wanting to face what his brethren did to him, so he anesthetizes himself with drugs, alcohol, and women?"

"The finest anesthetic dulls the worst of pains," he returned, crossing to join her on the bed. One hand raised, fingers sliding along her jaw, curving on the back of her neck. "Do you need something to dull your pains, Jo?"

"Need? Probably not." She scooted a bit closer, heartbeat quickening. "Want however? Maybe anesthetic isn't such a bad idea."

"I could be your painkiller."

"You already are."

"Flattering."

"Truth."

"And I haven't really tried yet." He leaned closer, lips nearly touching hers.

Anticipation skittered along her skin. She tilted her head a little to one side in invitation, eyes closing, felt the first press of his mouth to hers…and then nothing but frustration as there was a rapping of knuckles on the doorframe, Cas drawing back from her.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" Dean stood there, seeming rather pleased by that prospect.

Cas released her and turned his head to look at Dean. "We were having a philosophical discussion on the merits of anesthetic."

"Of course you were. Do you have a minute?"

"I've nothing but at present." He gestured towards the end of the bed with one hand. "Join us, oh fearless leader."

"Thanks. I'd rather speak to you outside."

The mood was broken, and by the time Castiel returned from that chat, Jo was reading. He didn't interrupt her, merely got undressed, slipped beneath the covers and fell asleep beside her. She set the book aside as his breaths turned even and deep, easing from the bed and blowing out the candles before going to bed herself.

Jo's dreams that night were rousing things that left her restless upon waking, seriously contemplating grabbing Cas and kissing him. She spent the day in that state of restlessness, watching him whenever he was in the cabin with her. Several times, she almost kissed him, yet drew back before she could do more than move an inch or two towards him.

Day slid into night.

He took their jackets from the hooks. "Campfire should be going strong now. Let's head on over."

Every Saturday, there was a campfire with some sort of food, a way to socialize and relax. Someone, Jo reflected, had gone to a lot of trouble to make this seem like a normal camp, complete with structure. They were big on structure here and maybe that was good. Maybe it really did help. The children seemed to do well with it at least. Was it Bobby who'd insisted on these pieces of normal activity that made up their days? She could almost hear his voice saying that, 'We gotta do _something_ for these people. Keep 'em sane somehow'. Or maybe it had been Dean, doing his best to give the survivors they found some sort of life to cling to that made sense.

She walked over with Castiel, hand in hand like they were teenagers on a date or something. The thought amused her. Melanie, Alexis and Chuck were already there, waiting with their allotted graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars. Emily had amassed enough smores supplies for everyone to have two or three should they choose. Jo thought the woman must have been saving those items for weeks.

It made her smile to watch Castiel put the treats together, standing with one young boy of about nine discussing the right state of goo that needed to be obtained, both grinning as their marshmallows browned. Cas roasted marshmallows for her, while the boy, it turned out, wanted to give his to Alexis, claiming she was the best schoolteacher he'd ever had. Jo wondered where his family was and shoved that thought back, smiling wider at the sight of Chuck handing Melanie the treat he'd put together.

When they'd eaten their fill, she sat beside Cas on a log before the fire, his arm a brace behind her back. The chill evening air made her drowsy and Jo rested her head on his shoulder. It seemed natural when his hand raised, fingers tipping her chin up and lips touching hers. She tasted the marshmallows and chocolate on her tongue, a remnant of sweet adding to the sweetness of the kiss itself. Though that kiss was long, slow and deep, Jo didn't feel self-conscious beneath the scrutiny of the camp. She simply enjoyed Cas's embrace and the fact that he wanted to kiss her in front of all of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 6  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: An alternate, M rated version of this chapter is up on my website. The link is in my profile. It's a bit steamier than the 'T' rating allows, so I edited this chapter for this site. Personally, I prefer that version to this one. I think it flows better.

* * *

Jo's refusal to take Dean's gift stung deep.

He brooded about it, dwelling on it more when he saw Castiel and Jo about to kiss in Cas's cabin and then them actually kissing at the campfire. The more he thought about it, the madder he got.

He was trying, damn it! And she just pushed him away, running back to Cas.

They all ran to Cas, like he could heal their pains with a kiss, a feel, and a roll between the sheets.

It slipped his mind that he'd asked Castiel to look after her, conveniently forgotten as jealous pangs gripped him.

He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, seething in the dark. His thoughts were in turmoil, imagining Jo and Cas together. There was no way Cas wasn't doing her. After all, she was still in his cabin, sleeping there every night. There had to be more than sleeping going on. Had to be.

He ended up sleeping for nearly eleven hours, though a good chunk wasn't restful, waking with a crick in his neck and a mild headache. Dean sat up, flung the covers off and swung his legs over the side of his bed, staring at the wall. A shuddering yawn worked through him and he got up, heading into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Why couldn't Jo have just taken the gift? Why did she have to refuse it?

He avoided his reflection in the mirror as much as possible, purposely taking a cold shower in an attempt to clear the fuzziness from his mind.

It was a gray, rainy day, of the sort where he wanted to go back to bed and sleep, curling under the covers and hoping his constant exhaustion would finally ease. Not many people were about, the dining hall mostly empty when he reached it. The sound of rain pattering on the roof was a constant loud drumming.

Geez, he needed a vacation from all of this.

Biscuits and gravy were the main offering and he took a double portion, eating slowly and nursing cup after cup of coffee until he felt somewhat human. When he thought he could function without screaming at someone, he headed over to see Chuck.

Melanie was there when he went in, stocking the shelves at the back, her hair loose. Her jeans and t-shirt molded to her curves and he studied her a moment, mapping those curves with his eyes. She _did_ have a nice figure, the sight of her bending and the jeans clinging to her pushing some of his dark mood away.

Dean angled his chair so that he could sneak glances at her while they worked. May as well enjoy the sights.

Chuck had the papers they needed to study laid out on the desk. "We've got a couple newbies who'd like to go out. I put them on separate teams, partnered one with Mike, the other with Scott."

"Sounds good." Mike and Scott were excellent choices to baby-sit the newbies. Both were careful and observant and would keep mischief to the minimum. "You got a target in mind?"

Melanie turned and stood up on tiptoe, reaching high above her head to set something on a shelf, her t-shirt riding up and exposing her stomach. Apparently not satisfied with adding whatever it was to the shelf, she turned a little more, breasts thrusting out as she stretched up to shove the item back.

"Well, we're getting low on prescription meds. I thought a pharmacy or clinic for one. Doc would be happy if we stocked up on pain meds and antibiotics, especially the non-penicillin types. He says we've got a few allergic to penicillin now."

Dean cleared his throat, sliding his attention to the piles of papers and not the press of Melanie's breasts to her t-shirt. "And the other?"

"We're pretty stocked up on food and hygiene products, so…someplace for clothing? We should grab some heavier gear with the weather starting to cool. Then we can take a week or two off, maybe even three."

"Pick a place." He lifted the rotation sheets, studied them, and was about to comment when Melanie asked a question.

Dean looked at her, saw what she held in her hands and the hunger in her eyes. She wanted that bottle of sesame body oil that Jo had refused, wanted it with a fierce need. Why not, he decided on impulse. Jo's refusal was Melanie's gain -- since she wanted it so badly.

He flirted with her a little, enjoyed seeing her finally relax somewhat near him and wondered if that flush on her cheeks continued right down her chest. She was pretty when she wasn't crying. When she'd gone, he returned to the desk, noticing Chuck's expression. Wariness and censure rolled together. He almost laughed. "What? She's legal."

Chuck shook his head. "She's too sweet. Naïve."

"How naïve can she really be? She goes to Cas's gatherings all the time, remember? If she was naïve, I doubt she's that anymore. Believe me, Chuck, a girl who's into free love and that sort of thing? She's not so innocent."

"She's nice, Dean."

He shook his head. "Relax, Chuck. I don't plan to tap that." Yet, anyway, he added silently to himself. Maybe in the future.

* * *

"Did this just come in?" Melanie whirled, the bottle of sesame oil in her hands.

Chuck opened his mouth to answer, intending on telling her it was on hold. He'd been hoping Jo would change her mind since Dean was upset and him upset wasn't really something anyone wanted.

Dean answered before he could. "Sure did." Getting up from his chair, he sauntered to her.

Melanie clasped the bottle tight to her breasts, her wide eyes holding the slightest hint of fear as Dean towered over her. It seemed to Chuck that she was afraid he'd snatch the bottle away from her and he swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, waiting for Dean to do just that -- pluck it away and say something caustic.

"You like this stuff?" Stretching out a hand, Dean touch a finger to the lid of the bottle.

Groaning softly, Chuck shook his head. Oh no. He recognized that expression on Dean's face and the tone of his voice. He was flirting with Melanie, giving her that seductive steamy-eyed look that Chuck had always had trouble describing just right on paper. Try as he might, he'd never quite been able to accurately capture Dean's expression with words, though he had heard it described by one woman as 'sex in a glance'.

"Yes," she admitted, face flushing a deep red, confusion replacing that fear in her eyes. She shifted her weight. "It's my favorite."

"Is it?" He smiled at her, that cocky little grin he used when picking up women. Chuck had seen that before too. "How about that?"

She bit her lip, breaking eye contact with him.

Dean's fingers dropped from the lid to the backs of her hands, rubbing briefly before dropping away from her. "It's yours. Take it."

"Really?"

Chuck let his head fall into his hands, stifling another groan. This was so not good.

"Really."

Her smile was shy. "Thank you."

Not good, not good, not good. Chuck chanted that to himself in his head. Though Dean denied that he planned to 'tap that' as he put it, Chuck could see the lie plain on Dean's face. He was thinking about it and if he did, those jealous women he'd been screwing would make Mel's life hell.

Maybe he should tell Castiel or Jo and they could keep an eye on the situation.

* * *

As much as Jo didn't mind Melanie being in the cabin when she first woke up, she didn't particularly care for her habit of sitting on the bed watching her sleep. She remembered Dean telling her how Castiel used to do that and, at the time, Jo had been amused by it. The reality of someone doing it, however, was not so funny. It was discomfiting to wake and see someone right there staring at her.

Jo sat up, adjusting the covers about herself. "Hey. Morning."

"Hey." Melanie nodded in a distracted manner. "Can I talk to you about something? I really need someone to talk to."

"Sure. About what?"

She bit her lip, teeth grazing it as she hunched over, looking down at her crossed legs. "About Dean."

Sleep disappeared in an instant, leaving Jo immediately alert. "Of course you can talk to me." What on earth had he done?

"I'm confused," she confided. "For three months, he was nothing but mean to me and then all of a sudden he's…he's _smiling_ at me and I'm not complaining, Jo, I just don't understand the switch. Like," she turned, gesturing with one hand, "I found this body oil on the shelves in supplies and it's this really good stuff, smells great, and it's so good for your skin! I was the first to see it because it would have been gone otherwise."

The oil she'd had Chuck put out. That gift from Dean. "Uh-huh."

"Well, I asked about it and Dean, he got up and came over, and he was looking at me and…. The look was like when you're with Cas and his eyes go all dark and smolder-y. You know, right? When you can almost see exactly what he wants and what he's planning on doing and it makes your insides tremble. All you want right then is for him to _touch_ you already, but you know he's going to drag it out and make you wait."

Yeah, Jo was beginning to be familiar with that look. "Go on."

"That's how _Dean_ was looking at me. At _me_. He never looks at me like that. And then he smiled too, like he knew that I knew that he was undressing me in his head and he didn't mind me knowing that. Maybe he even wanted me to know that."

"And?" There was more, she could see it in how Melanie leaned towards her, her eyes getting wider and wider as she spoke.

"He touched my hand. Like this." Taking Jo's hand, she demonstrated and Jo had to admit, a touch like that wasn't one of Dean's more subtle gestures. It was about as subtle as a semi at high speed. "It was…. Jo, what do I do?" She wailed the last words with a touch of panic.

"It sounds like he was just flirting a little is all."

"I _know_ that, but why?"

Why was a good question. Melanie wasn't Dean's sort of woman at all. "I don't know. Because he thinks you're pretty and he likes pretty women?"

Her features scrunched up in an expression of doubt. "Pretty?"

"You _are_ pretty, Mel. As long as he's not yelling at you, right?"

"I guess. But what if they notice?"

"Who?"

"_Them_. The three N's." The way she said it made it sound like some sort of dark coven of witches when in reality she only meant Dean's recent favorites: Nina, Nicole, and Nora.

"Relax. They'd have to go through half the camp to get at you."

While she seemed to accept that answer, she asked another panicked question. "But what if he does it again?"

"Flirt back," Jo suggested with a shrug.

"I couldn't."

"Maybe he won't do it again." Fat chance. If he liked how she'd reacted, he'd be back trying to get that same reaction from her over and over again. "Why don't you just wait and see if it happens again and if it does, then deal with it then?"

Melanie sighed. "I suppose." She got up from the bed. "Well, thanks for listening. I've got to get over to the school area. Later."

Closing her eyes, Jo shook her head, then climbed from the bed and set about getting dressed.

Nearly an hour later, Jo made her way to the infirmary. There was little activity, the doctor -- Alan -- alone and organizing items on shelves along one end of the small room. He was a man of medium height, with graying blond hair, and a dry wit.

Turning, he peered at her over the tops of his bifocals. "Let me guess…. Birth control?"

"Yeah, how did you --"

"Do you think there's a single person in this camp who _doesn't_ know where you're sleeping?" He reached for a clipboard and pen, fitting several sheets of paper under the clip. "I'm only surprised you haven't been in before now."

Before now? But I've only been here a few weeks, she thought.

Did everyone just assume she was already one of Castiel's women just because she was staying with him? Jo considered that a second with what she knew of Cas's reputation around camp. She supposed it really was a fair assumption….

Snagging a wheeled stool, he dragged it to the table and motioned her over. "Give me a brief family history."

Jo complied. There wasn't much to tell. Both sides of her family had been healthy. He took her blood pressure, got her height, weight, and other pertinent health data.

"What have you taken previously?"

She listed off what she'd taken in the past.

His head dipped in an approving nod. "Perfect. We'll start you back on that last one, unless you had any problems on it?"

"No, no problems. You mean you actually have that here?"

His thin lips turned up in a small smile. "We raid pharmacies, too. All the time. I'd rather be fully stocked than missing something essential in an emergency." Going to a big box in one corner, he opened it. "We got lucky when we hit a clinic awhile back. They'd just gotten a shipment of that brand you need, so I've got plenty for now."

She left the building with a paper sack holding six pill packets, not hiding the contents when Cas asked what she'd picked up. It could have been anything -- Chuck used paper sacks, too.

Picking up one packet, he studied it. "When do you start taking them?"

"A couple days."

The packet was set with the others, his arms going around her, mouth lowering to nibble along her neck. Jo slid her arms around his shoulders, one hand curling in his hair. In another time, the reality of his other women would have bothered her. Here, now, it didn't. It was simply a part of who he was. Someday she'd have to analyze herself and figure out why that didn't bother her.

It wasn't like he didn't care about her because he did. He expressed concern for her in various ways daily. She never felt like he expected her to be anything more than who she was -- a main problem when she'd been with Dean. There'd always been the sense that he'd thought she should be different, as though his idea of her wasn't anything near who she really was.

Castiel paused. "What's wrong," he asked in a whisper at her ear. "You stiffened up just now." Drawing back a fraction, he slid his hand up to stroke his fingers across her cheek. "Was it something I did?"

"No." After a quick inner debate in her head, she decided she wasn't ready to explain. "Just a ghost of Christmas past in my head."

"Dickens," he said with a pleased gleam in his eyes. She'd noticed he was always pleased when he understood cultural references. Dean's constant habit of tossing cultural references into conversation had often frustrated him in the past. Jo remembered Cas losing his temper with that habit on two separate occasions, telling Dean it was pointless to use such references when he didn't know what Dean referred to. "A Christmas Carol."

"Yeah. You saw the movie?" Likely.

"I read the book. The ghost of Christmas past…."

She could practically see him paging through the book in his head for the reference.

"The first ghost. Dean?"

"Yes."

"I see. Context?"

Jo shook her head. "I don't really feel like explaining it. Maybe someday, but not right now."

He accepted her refusal with a shrug, his hands now on her hips, squeezing lightly. "Actually, I wanted to see if you'd like to round out a game or two of Pitch after lunch. I need a partner."

"Cas, you suck at Pitch. You get the worst hands so consistently it's almost funny. I've never seen someone so bad at it before." Pitch was one of those games that they could play for hours.

"That's why I need you as a partner. You tend to win. Between the two of us, we should balance out somewhere in the middle most games. Besides, you haven't seen Chuck play yet. The last time we tried to teach Melanie the game she sat there and laughed at his hand every time instead of laughing at mine. Had the giggles for over an hour. Of course that might have been the wine Alexis gave her, too."

Spending the afternoon playing cards sounded like a good idea. What else was there to do with the pouring rain?

* * *

She was different than the others. Castiel didn't really know how to explain it if anyone asked. Jo just was. She was special to him and he was pleased to see that his women recognized it and accepted it, treating her like one of their own. They included her readily in conversations and daily activities. He'd even noticed a couple of them coming to her for advice. Good. He wanted her to be comfortable and feel like she belonged here.

He wanted…her.

But not too soon.

He felt like taking his time and enjoying the process, however long it took.

* * *

Castiel's kisses made Jo feel like her body was bursting into flames. She melted into a little puddle of want and need with every deep probing caress of his tongue against hers, finding herself anticipating moments that could bring about another kiss. She supposed one thing that made each kiss so incendiary was the fact that while his mouth was wicked, his hands were chaste. He avoided every subtle and blatant hint she made that he could let his hands roam where they wanted, continuing to keep his touches to her the same as they'd been: friendly. Jo had the oddest feeling that he was savoring each moment.

For nearly a week, he teased her with those hot kisses…and then his hands turned naughty. Jo could honestly say she'd never anticipated a man's hands on her bare skin as much as she craved Castiel's hands on her. His lean fingers danced along her body in caresses that ranged from firm to light as a feather, at first treating the t-shirt and panties she wore to sleep in like impenetrable barriers. He'd drag his fingertips along her inner thighs while his lips nibbled at hers, and right when he'd reach either article of clothing, he'd change direction, leaving her gasping and trembling.

Her frustration increased when she realized he was in no hurry for more, content to tease her into constant higher levels of frustrated desire on a daily basis.

Jo groaned, fingers digging into his bare shoulders as though her grip could make him continue. "I won't say no," she told him.

Amusement flickered in his eyes and he smiled, running his thumb along her lower lip. "I know you won't."

"So, what do I have to do to get full ride privileges? Join up?"

He rested his hand on her belly, thumb sweeping back and forth. "That's separate. This, between us, is different. It's more than a pursuit of pleasure. The anticipation is a part of the journey."

"A long journey? Because…I don't know how much more I can take."

He chuckled. "Believe me, Jo. You can handle more than you think."

"I'd rather not test that theory."

"I think you'd love testing that theory."

She began to wear the perfume Melanie had given her. It was a light floral scent with an undercurrent of musk that she decided she really liked. When she'd asked Melanie why she'd given her the perfume, she'd smiled and shrugged. 'It's something good. I thought you could use that.'

Jo also wore the chemise, glad now that she'd accepted both of the gifts. It pleased her to see Castiel's reaction when he walked in and saw her in the center of the bed with that little slip of next to nothing on.

He came to her, pausing to close the curtains at the end of the bed, giving them privacy, then bent, placing his hands flat on the mattress and leaning close. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more so."

One hand raised. "I'll do nothing that you don't want," he told her, tracing her features with his fingertips. "If you're uncomfortable, tell me and I'll stop." His eyes seemed to darken to a deeper blue, his hand curving behind her neck and his mouth covering hers in one of those passionate kisses that caused an instant rise of desire inside her.

Jo let herself fall into the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 7  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: Thanks to all who've reviewed so far! I know I'm terrible about replying and apologize for that.

* * *

For three weeks, Cas mulled over why Jo was different than the others. He thought about it when they were together and when they weren't, his ruminations leading him to memories of her mother. Castiel could recall with great clarity the day his relationship with Ellen Harvelle had changed. It was one of the defining moments in his journey into humanity.

_His motel room was like all the others they'd been staying at, with out-of-date carpet in an odd shade, a garish flowered bedspread, and wallpaper in shades that surely couldn't induce thoughts of slumber. A framed painting of cans of SPAM and a fresh pineapple was above the small table, a print of a tropical scene by the bathroom door, and the lamps were carved to look like pineapples. The theme appeared to be Hawaii if Ellen's reaction was any indication._

_She dropped her bag down with a disgusted groan. "Oh, geez, Dean sure can pick them. This is worse than the last one he parked you at. All that's missing are leis, a couple of scantily clad hula girls, and a pig on a spit in the parking lot."_

_He remembered all three were associated with Hawaii._

_There was a thump behind him on the wall. Ellen stared at that wall adjoining Dean's room, where already they could hear an argument brewing between Jo and Dean. It didn't really matter what it was, there was always something they ended up fighting about._

_Castiel remained sitting on the end of the queen sized bed, looking up at her, waiting. Her company made the time bearable, time he found tended to drag as a human. While she was present he felt at least a little bit comfortable with his growing humanity._

_After a moment, she sighed and turned her attention to him, her expression softening. "Grab your things, sweetie. I think this fight's gonna be a doozey and I'd rather not hear it or the make-up later."_

_She took him to a nice hotel, a much swankier place than he and Dean ever stayed at, where the colors used to decorate were soothing, the air smelled fresh and clean instead of like stale cigarettes and beer, and the bathtub had controls that made the water churn._

A part of him had realized then that she had seduction on her mind, but for the most part, he'd been blissfully unaware of her intentions, naïve to the last moment and content to follow her lead as he'd been doing. He wasn't sure what he would have done without her there with him all that time. Sit staring at the wall perhaps? Wander around whatever town they were in, stubbornly denying his need for sleep and food?

While he'd known logically that sex had to feel good -- Jo and Dean hadn't ever been particularly silent --, Cas hadn't anticipated just _how_ good it felt. For those moments, lost in her, he could forget their external circumstances. Was it any wonder then, that he'd started thinking about Ellen when she wasn't there? Or found himself bringing her up in conversation with Dean? Or Bobby? He'd begun to feel things he'd never felt, an affection that was different than what he felt for Dean and Bobby.

When he'd worked up his courage to declare those feelings, Ellen had let him down gently, talking it through with him, not giving him a chance to feel embarrassment. She explained that what he was feeling for her was called 'puppy love' or infatuation. If and when he felt the real thing, it'd be different. Real love, Ellen told him, is an act of the will, not an explosion of feelings, though there are feelings involved.

He hadn't fully understood it then.

That moment with Ellen, or series of moments rather, had led him here to this point.

As he spent more time with Jo, he thought he finally understood what Ellen had been talking about. The feelings he'd developed for Jo, the urge to keep her separate from the others and honor her in some way daily, that wanting to put her wants and needs above his own…. It was love -- if he understood what Ellen had told him correctly.

Cas stretched out on the couch with a sigh, studying the ceiling without really seeing it. The pills he'd taken right after waking were starting to take effect, dulling that edgy sensation he'd woken with and bringing a blissful calm that soothed his nerves.

He had no trouble reconciling the two parts of his life -- Jo and his other women --, nor did he have trouble with his feelings for them all. Cas could honestly say he loved each of them. They were beautiful, talented, and so on, yet among them, Jo was different. She was all of those things and more to him, the love he had for her a deeper one.

Cas smiled at that. It was nice to have something figured out, something that made sense.

Jo came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped about her. Her wet hair was neatly braided. She cast a glance at the doorway, dropped the towel and began to get dressed. "You getting dressed today? We _are_ supposed to be at supplies soon."

"I'm dressed." In the sense that he wasn't naked.

"Boxers do not an outfit make, Cas."

"I think they make an excellent outfit."

She drew on her shirt, leaving it un-tucked. "By definition, an outfit is more than one piece of clothing. That's not an outfit."

He sat up. "Mmm. I see your point." Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and tugged her so that she sat on the edge of the couch, embracing her. He pressed kisses to her face, pausing when he reached her mouth.

She touched his face, hand cupping his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?"

"I could turn that question back to you." Raising his own hands, he caressed her face. "I love you, Jo."

"You love everyone," she reminded him with a teasing little smirk. "Especially when you've taken those pills you popped a little bit ago."

She did have another point with that. "But I love _you_ the most every day."

That smirk faded. "You're serious."

"Very."

He didn't expect her to start crying.

* * *

She didn't want to explain why she was crying. The last time a man had told her he loved her, it was Dean and as he'd always been on top of her when he said it, she'd never been sure he meant it in anything more than 'I love you because you let me in your pants'. She thought he'd meant it, but it would have been clearer if he'd bothered to say it any other time besides then.

Castiel meant it. Jo could see in his eyes and on his face. It wasn't the pills talking or his general affection for every female in range.

Jo sniffed, and pulled herself together, nodding, touching his face again, her thumbs brushing his cheeks. "I love you too."

She meant it. While some would argue that a few weeks wasn't time to know for sure, her mother would have heartily disputed that. Ellen had fallen for William Harvelle in far less time than that. Jo remembered her mother once telling her that with the right man, a week could be all it took to love him.

He kissed her, a tender brief caress.

There were footsteps on the stairs, then the porch, Melanie's voice sounding. "Good morning! I come bearing coffee." She stepped into the cabin, a thermos in one hand and three cups stacked together. "Nathan didn't make it, so I'm not sure it's drinkable, but I brought it anyway because caffeine is good."

"Who made it?" Jo stood and went to her, reaching for the cups, then snagging Melanie's wrist and touching the pretty charm bracelet she was wearing. "Whoa, this isn't something you've worn before."

"I'm not sure who made the coffee, I just know it wasn't Nathan. He's got a cold." Melanie relinquished the cups and shrugged. "Someone left it for me at my cabin. It was in a little bag with my name on it." She loosed her wrist from Jo's hold. "I have a secret admirer. I think. Either that or someone thought it was mine already."

Not an entirely unreasonable idea. Melanie could have picked up the bracelet from supplies anytime since she'd been in the camp. When people died, their belongings were added to supplies, so there were some pieces of jewelry there. It was also possible she had an admirer.

Cas joined them, taking a glance at the bracelet. "Are those dogs?"

She smiled, holding her wrist up so he could see it better. "And little kitty cats, too."

"Huh."

Jo saw his lips twitch before he turned and reached for his clothes. She made a mental note to ask him what he knew about the gift later and poured three cups of the coffee. Melanie sipped at hers, watching Cas get dressed. Finally, he came to them, drank down his coffee and once they were outside on the path, slipped an arm around Jo's waist and the other around Melanie's shoulders.

"Let's go then."

* * *

When supplies were plentiful, Chuck didn't feel like his stomach was trying to crawl out his throat. He was at ease when the shelves were filled to bursting and he didn't have to tell people that they'd have to wait and see if he could get the item they wanted. It was a good thing to look around and knew they had what they needed, even though it wasn't going to last.

He decided to take the day off. Maybe he'd take a nap or venture over to the shooting range and see if someone there would let him practice. He wasn't very good, but that's what practice was for, right? He left Jo, Cas, and Melanie in charge of filling requests, though Cas was doing more kissing and cuddling behind the shelves with Jo or Melanie -- depending on which one walked by him close enough to snag -- than actual work, and took the path that went around the edge of the fence.

The watch team waved a hello as they passed him, not pausing their quiet discussion. Halfway to the shooting range, he stopped to peer outside the fence, thinking he'd seen movement on the other side of the road by that tree line. He scanned the area, standing as still as possible, listening carefully for out of place sounds.

Nothing. No sounds out of the ordinary, no more signs of movement. An animal maybe?

Chuck put his hands in his pockets and glanced up at the tree branches above him and those high across the road. He felt like he was being watched. Creepy. There was nobody there. His imagination tried to conjure up sinister reasons for that sensation and the knowledge that one of those reasons could actually be right made him shiver. The days of being blissfully ignorant of the reality of those weird things that lurked in the shadows were long over.

He started back down the path, strides slowing when he heard Nina's voice. Great. He rolled his eyes, contemplating turning around and going back. What was she doing out here? Meeting someone that wasn't Dean perhaps? A male voice too low to understand said something. Who was she talking to?

She wasn't one of Dean's best choices of women in Chuck's opinion. There was something about her that bugged him, but he didn't say anything to Dean about it, not entirely certain it wasn't his imagination. He just didn't like her. She had an obvious sense of entitlement, walking around camp like she was the queen bee just because she was screwing Dean every now and then.

He stood still, debating his choices, trying to hear the conversation, but their voices were gone. With a shrug, Chuck started walking once more, only to walk right into Nina when she ran from that direction. Her slight weight nearly knocked him down.

She scowled, shoving him, "Get out of my way," and kept on going.

"Sorry, my fault," he mumbled, knowing full well she wasn't paying any attention to him.

As he continued around on the path, Chuck looked for signs of another person and caught a quick glimpse of someone ahead of him on the path, but by the time he reached the clearing by the shooting range, whoever it was was gone. He glanced back down the path, debating whether or not to tell Dean about Nina.

No, he decided. Dean already knew what kind of woman she was. Anything Chuck told him wouldn't be news.

* * *

Out of all the things that could have surprised Dean the most, it was the sudden realization one evening that he hated seeing Jo with Castiel. It wasn't just in the realm of discomfort, but rather a full-blown jealous rage. He hated seeing Cas's arm about her slender waist or shoulders, fingers caressing and Jo _liking_ it. The peace on her face irritated him. She'd never looked so peaceful with him and it pricked at him like thorns in his flesh. The sound of her laughter, faint from Cas's cabin, annoyed him, especially since he couldn't even seem to talk to her.

But he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it. He had no claim on her anymore. It was a fact Dean knew. They'd tried to be together and failed long before the camp was established, so why did he feel like he was losing her more and more as the days passed? She wasn't his to lose.

He despised thoughts of Jo responding to Castiel's touch like she had his. Images of her filled his mind, of her crying out with pleasure, her body flushing. Or her hair tousled as she smoothed that body oil all over. He bet she would have taken that oil if Castiel had given it to her.

Dean found himself being an jerk to both of them, unable to stop himself. It was like a compulsion, one of those obsessive-compulsive things. A knee-jerk reaction to seeing them together.

So when the cabin request came in for Jo, he was relieved. He could relax, be normal again, and maybe begin mending the fence with Jo.

* * *

The other women filled a need in Castiel, just like he filled a need in Jo. He made no promises of exclusivity, nor did she think she could make him. She was strangely content drifting along as the only woman who slept overnight in Cas's cabin. Maybe, she decided, that obvious need inside him was why it didn't bother her.

The other women -- his 'harem' as Dean called them in derisive tones, though he'd no room to talk considering he was stringing along three women at once-- came to her like she was Cas's wife or something, crying on her shoulder, asking for advice. All those sorts of things. He didn't ask her to take care of them like she would family, but Jo did anyway. It was nice to feel like she had a big family around.

She played the role the women assigned her -- mother, sister, and friend all in one -- and the one Castiel wanted of her, while he played his as well. He loved her and Jo, in return, was that bit of heavy duty anesthetic to get him through the nights and into the following days.

Still, she began to want a place of her own, a place to go to when Cas had Melanie, Maggie, Alexis, Amanda, or Katie over. Aimless wandering about the camp had become boring and she could only take so many hours with Chuck at a time. She decided to broach the subject with Cas.

His reaction surprised her. He tensed, turning his back to her.

"Your own cabin," he repeated in a flat tone.

Jo rested her cheek against his bare back, right below the base of his neck. One hand kneaded his left shoulder, the other softly stroking his back. She could feel the tension tightening the muscles and sought to clear up any misconception he might have about her request. "It's not because of you, Cas. Nothing you said or did. I like it here. You know I do."

"Then stay."

"I need a place of my own, someplace to go when you have others over. And…I've never really had my own place before."

"_This_ is your place. I want you _here_."

The desperation in that last word gave Jo a sudden sharp understanding of his reaction. He thought she was abandoning him.

She wrapped her arms about his waist. "I'll still spend nights here and if someone comes in who needs it full time, I'll give it up. I didn't know it was such an issue."

It took hours to make it clear that she only wanted a private place to go away from everybody when she didn't feel like walking all over camp. Besides, she thought there was a good chance the request would be denied. Other people were surely ahead of her on the request list.

However, Dean was chipper about the request, so much so that Doc made several references to pod people when Jo and Cas took a box of supplies to him, a reference that Castiel actually understood. Out of all the references for him to understand, it was that one? Jo had to laugh at that. The request was granted and in two days, Dean himself was knocking at Cas's doorway before Jo had even finished dressing. He stepped just inside.

"Ready? It's across camp." He looked around the cabin. "Want me to carry anything?"

Jo shook her head. She wasn't moving out, though Dean didn't know that.

He led her to the tiny cabin that had been repaired for her, apologizing that it was only ten by eight. There just wasn't a bigger cabin available. He was right in that it was across camp. All the way across, like he sought to put physical distance between her and Cas.

There was a bed set up, a small table, and lamp. Her silence didn't appear to bother him. Dean talked to her, telling her all about the past week, talking while he hung a curtain rod for her and checked the repairs, though the words were stilted and he rambled back and forth between topics. It was apparent that he thought the request for a cabin meant that she and Cas were on the outs and the fact that that idea made him exuberant saddened her. Once, she thought he might have wished them well because he cared for them both.

He straightened the curtain panels and turned to face her. "Well…. I think you'll be comfortable here. It's small, but it could be cozy, I guess. Add a few personal touches, maybe a trunk or something and it'll be nice. Jo, do you --" He broke off suddenly, gaze flicking to the open door. His nostrils flared, brows pulling down in a frown.

Castiel was leaning there, a faint grin on his lips and his hands in his pockets. His hair looked like he hadn't bothered combing it before leaving the cabin earlier. "The cabin looks great, Dean. It's perfect."

Jo smelled the faint scent of pot and sat down on the bed, scooting so that her back was against the wall and legs stretched out. Hmm. So that was what he'd meant by quality checking the harvest. She crossed her ankles, patting the bed beside her with one hand in an invitation for Cas to join her.

"Perfect," Dean repeated with raised brows and heavy suspicion.

Cas strolled inside, studying the area with eyes that looked slightly unfocused. "Exactly what Jo wanted." Coming to the bed, he sat and maneuvered so he could rest his head in Jo's lap. She smoothed his hair back off his brow with one hand. Cas grabbed that hand, pressed a noisy kiss to it. "Whatever she wants is perfect. Always absolute perfection."

"Right."

Looking up, Jo saw a flare of irritation in Dean's eyes, that good mood he'd been in gone in seconds, mouth turning down in a sour frown.

"There you all are!" Alexis came through the door and straight to the bed, climbing onto it and over to Jo and Cas. She placed an exuberant kiss a little too close to Jo's mouth for comfort, then bent and kissed Castiel.

The pot scent was on her as well.

She laid her head beside Cas's in Jo's lap and took Jo's free hand in hers, curling up like she did that all the time. She talked a mile a minute about how hungry she was and that they should all go see if Emily had popcorn or something because she was starving to death.

Speculation took root in Dean's eyes, slid about with the irritation already there and made itself at home. Jo could practically hear him thinking that she seemed awfully at ease with Alexis's affection.

Alexis was just that way though. Once she knew someone she was touchy-feely, hugs and kisses and hand holding. It was how she expressed her affection -- openly -- and since she liked Jo…. She knew very well Jo wasn't interested in getting physical. Usually Jo didn't much attention to those hugs and kisses. Melanie, Maggie, Amanda, and Katie did it too. Since she'd arrived at the camp, her limitations of personal space had undertaken a turnabout. While she still wasn't comfortable with Melanie watching her sleep, she was more relaxed about touchy-feely people than she'd been.

Dean cleared his throat. "Well. I guess I'll leave the three of you alone to, uh, _christen_ the place."

The tension that was ever present between Jo and Dean began to heat up that very afternoon. Thanks to Alexis's friendly cuddling, Dean obviously assumed Jo was participating in the orgies. She wasn't sure what pissed her off more -- that he thought she'd do that or that he started making snide remarks without asking her if it was true. The remarks weren't even direct, but said under his breath just loud enough that she knew they were directed at her. He became even more of an ass than he'd been, a thing Jo hadn't thought possible.

Jo didn't care to much for this new Dean Winchester. He had little in common with the man she'd once thought she loved. He was too hurt, hardened, and bitter to appeal to her and when that tension came to a head, it did so in a loud, heated, and very ugly public way.

She was busy ignoring his remarks, but he wouldn't let her ignore him this time. Dean gripped her arm so tightly it pinched, fingers bruising. "Don't walk away from me, Jo."

She whirled, snapping a punch at him that sent him reeling back, nearly taking her with him when he didn't let go immediately. Jo stumbled, regaining her balance quicker than Dean, who bent, one hand covering his left eye. "Don't you touch me, Dean! Don't you ever touch me again!"

"What the hell is your problem?" He stood back up, gingerly pressing around his eye.

"What the hell is _my_ problem? You have to ask that? _You're_ my problem. This is exactly why I haven't been talking to you. All the little comments. Do you think you're being funny? You know, we were over a long time ago, so I can't figure out why you think it's your business if I take part in the orgies or not. Why?"

"Do you?" He stepped close.

"If you were so interested, couldn't you have just asked? No, I don't. But I am having sex with Cas. I sleep there every night and I like it there. He holds me and tells me I'm beautiful and I don't really care if it's the same thing he tells all the women. When he's with you, he means it and when he's not with you, he still means it. Every word." She crossed her arms. "I need that. I need _him_. _Him_ Dean. Not you, so you can stop that jealous shit right now. You don't get to be jealous. You lost that right a long time ago."

An ugly calculating glint filled his eyes. Half the time anymore, Jo thought she must have dreamt the Dean who'd walked into the Roadhouse that day long ago. He moved even closer, towering over her. "He told Ellen all that too, or didn't you know he was _doing_ her back then?"

Jo clenched her fists tight. "You're an ass," she spat.

"Thanks. Every time you and I met up, he'd go off with her for some afternoon, evening, morning delight. How do you think you compare?"

She gritted her teeth.

"You know he compares you, right? Mother and daughter. I mean, how could a guy not?"

They argued back and forth, old hurts getting in the way of newer ones, bubbling up and out for all to hear. As the fight continued, a crowd began to grow. Jo whirled, moving towards Cas's cabin, Dean behind her every step, his words growing even uglier, cruder, deliberately hurting. He painted Cas in the worst light possible, pausing for only a second in the doorway before following her inside. He wouldn't stop, even when her foot made repeated contact with his shins, his scornful, hateful voice driving her back. He said things she never thought she'd ever hear from his lips, used language she'd never heard him use, firing verbal missiles so fast and hard that she could no longer reply for the force of the emotions rolling over her.

This had been building between them for a long time.

She retreated from him, stumbling behind the curtain by the bed, wedging herself in the corner there and sliding down to sit curled up. Tears blinded her, tears of rage.

She had never thought she'd see the day when Dean would hurt her on purpose. He went straight for her weak points, jabbing over and over until he just…stopped. She wiped away tears with a shaking hand, her vision clear long enough to see the expression of intense self loathing on his face. He drew in a deep shuddering breath and stumbled from the cabin.

Jo wept.

* * *

What am I doing?

The sight of Jo cowering before him registered with a shock. She was shaking and crying, trying to make herself as small as possible there in the corner. Dean backed away, blinking rapidly several times, not sure he was seeing himself doing what he knew he was.

He was hurting Jo. His Jo. He was doing it on purpose.

What's wrong with me?

It felt like he'd exploded. There should be little bits of him all over the place. Beneath the somewhat drained sensation was nausea and the realization that he wasn't empty of these feelings yet. There was still more he wanted to say, verbal puke threatening to spill out to hurt her more.

Dean forced himself away from her before he could throw more ugly verbal garbage at her, nearly falling down the steps outside in his haste to be leave. He made his way across the camp to the Impala, sat inside, and made himself hold on to that painful image of Jo cringing in the corner.

How could he do that to her? How could he lose control over his temper to such an extent? How…?

It was still there, that anger, simmering under the surface of him. He wanted to hit something, to punch until his hands were bloody and broken and keep on punching until all of the pain inside him had been purged.

I can't, he told himself. I have to hold it together.

But how long could he do that before his temper could no longer be reigned in?


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 8  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: There's a tiny bit of strong language in this chapter.

* * *

Castiel was going through the inventory with Chuck when Melanie came to find him. She was out of breath and flushed. The gist of her story was that Dean had grabbed Jo and the ensuing argument had left Jo in tears, refusing to leave the cabin.

"He followed her. He wouldn't leave her alone and the things he was saying were horrible! It looked like they both just snapped!"

He looked at Chuck and set the clipboard down. "I'd better go."

"Yeah sure." Chuck nodded. "Go, go. See if Jo's okay."

Cas found Jo in the cabin, still wedged in the corner by the bed. Her tears were gone, but her face showed the remains. Her skin was blotchy, eyes bloodshot and a little swollen, and her mouth trembled.

"Is it true," she asked, voice nasally and husky.

"Is what true?" Crossing to her, he crouched down, reaching out to touch her arm. She shied back and he took the hint, pulling his hand back.

"Did you screw my mother?"

He thought about how to answer her, well aware that his hesitation made him fully guilty according to however Dean had described that relationship to her. How exactly could he explain his relationship with Ellen in a way that wouldn't upset her further? "What did Dean tell you?"

"No." She shook her head. "I want to hear your version of what happened with her."

"Okay." Sighing, he moved from a crouch to a sitting position beside her against the wall, his knees drawn up and arms clasped loosely about them. "While you and Dean were getting to know each other, I ended up spending a lot of time with Ellen. She was there, I was there. She…held me when I cried at being left behind by my brethren and at the pain of losing my angelic identity, taught me that a little whiskey can soothe, and gave me my first real appreciation for the whole beauty of a complicated woman. So…." He shrugged. "While Dean was accurate about the physical occurrence, if he implied I felt little for Ellen, or that she was one of many in a pursuit of decadence, then he outright lied to you. I had feelings for her and she read them rather accurately as first love. I'd never had those feelings before and she knew it. She helped me through it and when you and Dean broke up, we parted amicably."

There were many more layers to it, but Jo didn't need to know more.

She groaned, leaning her head back. "He's an ass."

"On occasion, but he knows full well how to get a rise from you." Annoyance tickled at him. Dean had no right to tell Jo that. Ellen hadn't wanted her to know, explaining to Cas that it wasn't Jo's business what she and Cas did. They were consenting adults.

"I let him."

"Yes, you did." Reaching out, he took one of her hands in his. This time, she let him touch her.

"He said so many things, Cas. And I jabbed right back. I don't know were it all came from, it just welled up and spewed out." She gestured with her free hand. "I brought up things I didn't even remember happening until then, old things, like from way back when we first met at the _Roadhouse_. The more he yelled, the madder I got and the madder I got, the more I yelled back until I couldn't even talk I was so mad at him." She shifted position. "I'm still shaking. I don't think I could even stand up if I had to."

"Then don't stand." Raising her hand, he kissed her knuckles. "We'll sit here awhile."

She told him what Dean had said, sometimes crying again, but mostly, she grew angry and frustrated. He sat with her until she calmed, holding her against him, then lifted her up onto the bed and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, one hand stroking her hair. "It's going to be okay."

"No it won't," she moaned. "Dean --"

"Don't worry about Dean. You just…rest awhile." Castiel stood.

Jo caught his hand in hers. "Where are you going?"

"I still have a few things to do today." One of them being some business with Dean.

It was time they had a talk about what was and wasn't acceptable behavior.

* * *

Dean smelled the pot scent wafting from his cabin before he'd even reached the door. Great. Castiel riding in on pot fumes to save Jo's honor. Just what he needed right now. He stepped inside.

Cas had made himself at home, stretched out on the couch, smoking away in a pose of ultimate patience.

"You mind putting that out? It stinks."

His glance flicked to Dean. "You mind not making Jo cry like that?" There was a deceptive mildness to his voice that Dean had heard many times back when Cas still had his angel mojo, a mildness that was usually a prelude to some sort of ass-kicking.

Jo's tears were all anger. Had to be. "She's a big girl, Cas."

"That she is." He sat, dropping his joint in a cup, and looking at Dean. A glimmer of satisfaction glinted in his eyes and he gestured. "Nice eye."

"Hurts." Jo always had thrown a good punch. He touched around his eye. Had thrown and still did throw.

"You deserved it."

"She can take care of herself."

Castiel's eyes narrowed a fraction. "You shouldn't have followed her. There's a line, Dean, and you crossed it not once, but so many times today, it actually surprised me and that's very difficult for you to do."

He didn't reply. He knew he was in the wrong and hardly needed Castiel to point that out. Following her hadn't been a conscious decision. It had simply happened and if he could take it all back, he would. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Jo like he had.

"She told me some of what you said to her, you know, though there were a few things that pissed her off so much she wouldn't say them."

His steady cool regard was uncomfortable and Dean crossed his arms.

"All those things you said to her about me…. She doesn't _want_ you back. She won't take you back no matter how much you try to villainize me."

"I'm aware of that." He hadn't meant those things he'd said about Cas. None of them. In reality, Castiel was still one of the best men Dean knew, despite his changed personal attitudes.

"Are you? Are you sure of that? Then stop acting like a jealous dick ex-boyfriend."

"Newsflash, Cas: I _am_ the jealous dick ex." Whose mouth had disconnected from his brain.

"Yes." He leaned back, hands clasping behind his head. "The jealous dick ex who told her that I 'fucked her mother' and compare the two of them. Nice. Very classy word choice. Screwed her, did her, fucked her…. All your words to describe a relationship you don't know the half of. Did you call Jo a whore too, because that would really make it a special moment between you."

Stepping to the table, Dean removed his jacket and laid it down, flushing from the memory of yelling those things at Jo. "I don't recall the word 'whore' during our altercation. 'Slut' maybe, but not whore. Jo's never charged for it that I know of."

Dislike simmered in Cas's eyes. "How is it that she only hit you once," he mused, lips twisting in disgust.

"Honestly? I stayed out of range. My shins are black and blue, though."

Cas leaned forward, forearms on his knees. "Ellen didn't want her to know. She made that very clear to me. It wasn't Jo's business what went on between her and I behind closed doors."

"Ellen's dead."

"Ellen would kick your ass from here to either coast and back for treating Jo the way you have recently."

"True, but again," he shrugged, "she's dead. Can't do much ass kicking that way."

His laugh was harsh, tinged with annoyance. "Oh man, what is your problem with my relationship with Jo? I'm exactly what you asked me to be to her. Do you remember that? When she first got here? You asked me to take care of her. I do. I give her what she wants and needs --"

"So she _needs_ to be just one more in a damn harem?"

"Like you have room to talk."

The truth hurt and Castiel went right to it. Those who care know how to hurt the most.

"How many times did she forgive you because you got shit-faced and still had another woman at the room when she got there?"

He didn't know Cas knew about that. And it had only happened twice. He'd had too much to drink and woken to find a woman there with him he didn't remember bringing back to the room. Hell, he hadn't even known what day it was.

Castiel snorted. "Yeah, I knew about that. So did Ellen. Jo though, she still wanted you to be her everything. She forgave you, came back to you, and you threw it away. You sabotaged it and threw _her_ away. Don't be so pissed when she doesn't want you anymore."

"Speaking of other women, _Cas_anova, how many do you have lined up right now for their daily dose of vitamin 'p'? Five maybe, six?"

He could hear their voices getting louder though he had no recollection of actually raising his voice, their tones growing uglier as words volleyed back and forth.

"At least I'm honest about it. She knew from the start that's how my life is now. She knows she can't change me and she's not even trying. She chose me, Dean, of her own free will."

"Jo's special. She's always been special." His mantra, that had meant nothing when she'd been his. Now he chanted the damn thing in his head all hours of day or night.

"Nice we agree on something. Jo _is_ special. She's not just another woman to me and you know that. I honor her every day in ways you don't understand."

"I don't like seeing you together."

"Get over it."

"I can't."

"Try."

He slammed a hand on the table. "She should have been fine! A week or two to grieve, to start letting Ellen go and get back to the hunt, but you, _you_, " he spat the word like it was filth in his mouth, "sucked her into that free-love, anesthetize your pains bullshit --"

"Whoa, wait, wow, I get it now." Cas stood and came to the table, staring at Dean like he'd suddenly grasped something crucial. "I totally get the problem. The erratic, irrational behavior, the possessiveness over Jo." He laughed. "I don't know why I didn't see it before. She was broken." He made a gesture with one hand in the direction of his cabin and then another one at Dean. "So are you. Two broken halves make a whole, but you're all pissed because she connected with the wrong broken man." Now he jerked his thumb at himself. "_Me_." Another laugh, his head bobbing in a nod as he warmed to the truth that Dean hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge. "You thought she'd want revenge."

A reasonable assumption.

"You thought she'd regroup and head back out there with you, guns blazing. Jo and Dean, like Bonnie and Clyde or something. Side by side you'd run this place, go on the big, unending quest for the Colt, and somehow you'd be right for each other this time because, hey," he shrugged, "you're both broken, right?"

Dean decided he didn't really like Castiel right now. His hands clenched into fists. He hated being open and exposed emotionally. Cas didn't stop there, breaking down the rationalization further.

"There was one big chink in that plan for her, wasn't there? Jo was tired. She didn't want to be out there anymore. Despite your best efforts, she's had enough of that life. She avoids anything near training, hasn't shot a gun in months now. The only thing you could get her to do was help Chuck in supplies." Placing his hands on the table, he rested his weight on them, leaning towards Dean slightly. "You wanted to push her to you, but everything you did came out wrong and you ended up pushing her away."

"You want to stop right now, Cas." He clenched his hands tighter.

"I don't think so. You wanted to make her see that you're both not whole anymore. That you need each other."

He wanted to punch that stupid high little smirk off Cas's face.

"You still weren't right for each other and it's not you she needs. Man…." He stood back up. "That sucks."

The last remnants of that rage he'd felt earlier with Jo washed over him, tumbled him about and Dean quit holding back that urge to hit.

* * *

The commotion was heard through most of the camp and though Jo could see it from the cabin if she chose, or rather see the crowd gathered around the two men, she kept the curtains closed, doing her best to ignore the sounds from outside. The fight continued long after their voices quite shouting. Only when the sounds of the fight died down did she step to the porch and wait. It wasn't long before Jim, one of the regular mission leaders, and Maggie brought Cas to the cabin, Jim bearing the brunt of Cas's weight. Blood dripped from Castiel's mouth and nose.

Maggie told Jo about the fight while Jo concluded Cas's injuries were all things she could care for. They didn't need to get Alan over to tend the wounds.

According to Maggie, Cas had thrown Dean through the railing on Dean's porch, the whole thing coming down. From there, they'd stumbled into the clearing, fighting dirty until they'd both laid down in the dirt and called a truce, spitting blood and gasping for breath.

Jo directed her to get warm water, bandages, and all those things she'd need, then sent her and Jim on their way.

She took the basin of warm water to the couch and set it down, kneeling in front of Cas, who opened his eyes and looked at her. A trickle of blood ran down his temple from a cut at his hairline. Lips pursed, she wrung a cloth out in the water and wiped away that trickle before dabbing one of many bleeding gashes on his left forearm. "You let him hit you?"

"It's not like I stood still for it. I did try to keep from being hit."

She scrutinized his scraped knuckles. One was swollen twice it's normal size already, but his fingers all looked straight, neither broken, nor dislocated. "Did you break either hand?"

"Not this time."

"Well, that's a plus." She worked in silence a moment. "What were you doing there, Cas?"

He touched her cheek. "I defended your honor."

"Thanks. Not too many chivalrous white knights around these days. However, not to be the ungrateful stepsister instead of the appreciative princess, but are you sure it was _my_ honor you were defending?" She wrung the cloth, leaving bloody trails in the water, and started in on his face. "You sure you didn't just go start a fight because you were pissed that he told me something you didn't want me to know?"

His expression -- what she could see of it through, mud, blood, and lumps -- was wounded. "He called you a slut. I couldn't let that slide."

"So you beat each other silly."

"He deserved it."

"That he did, but I can't look at you now without wincing, sweetheart."

He slid a hand through her hair. "You should see him."

"I plan to." Jo planned to go see Dean once she had Cas fixed up and in bed for the night. She suspected Alan wouldn't be sympathetic enough to give Dean any painkillers. Alan had little patience for 'tom foolery' as he called it.

"It doesn't hurt much."

"Yeah, I know. It will when all of the pills and happy smoke have worn off, I guarantee it."

He chuckled. "Happy smoke."

Jo touched one of the ugly marks. "He used your face for a punching bag."

"You should see him," he repeated. The satisfaction in his voice was almost primal.

"You're going to be in so much pain."

"So will he."

"Proud of that, aren't you?"

"Exceptionally." His amusement faded as something appeared to occur to him. "Hey…. I'm lucky he didn't shoot me, aren't I?"

"You sure are. You think you can eat something or do you want to just go to bed and sleep awhile?"

Laying his head back, he closed his eyes. "Not hungry. Feeling very tired."

"You did expend a lot of energy throwing Dean through that railing."

"I didn't intend to do that. He lost his balance. Besides, it's his own fault it collapsed. He knew the railing was loose for months and never had it fixed. I hardly threw him through it."

She got him cleaned up, undressed, and laid in the bed, covers bunched at his waist. Leaning down, Jo kissed one corner of his mouth. "I'll be back in a bit."

He grunted and sighed. "Don't be long."

Jo slipped on a jacket and went to the basket of pill bottles and baggies, lifting up neatly labeled packages until she found the one she wanted. She took an empty unlabeled bottle from the shelves and poured enough for a few days into it, then added her own label, giving only dosage information. Pocketing the bottle, she left the cabin and stepped across the clearing to Dean's cabin. The railing was a splintered mess and the bushes in front of the porch had a man-sized hole in them. She went up the steps and knocked, peering through the open door. Dean was slouched in one straight chair at the table. Jo went inside and over to him.

Cas hadn't been exaggerating, she saw. Dean's face was far more beat-up than she'd ever seen it. Over the years, she'd seen him injured in many ways. He gave her a sour glance, winced, and touched the tell-tale white strip on the bridge of his nose.

"Go away," he told her, voice thick.

"He broke your nose."

"You think? Doc says there'll barely be a sign of it when it's healed."

"He give you something for the pain?"

He looked at the tabletop. "No. He said it served me right and he wasn't going to waste good meds on stupid macho injuries."

"I knew there was a reason I liked Alan." Moving forward, Jo set a pill bottle on the table beside him. "I took these from Cas's stash. They'll take the edge off the pain. There's enough there for four days, which should get you through the worst of it. If you need more after that, I could be persuaded with a few polite words to give you more."

He picked up the bottle, shook it, read the label. "Why are you doing this? I wasn't exactly Mr. Nice Guy to you earlier. Or recently at all."

She put her hands in her jeans pockets, shrugged. "Because when you're in pain, everybody is in pain and…as much as I hate to admit it right now, I do still care about you."

"You do? Why?"

Jo studied him. He really didn't seem to understand why, staring right back at her with a puzzled expression made gruesome by the swelling spots and beginnings of bruises. He was low enough now emotionally that she thought they could actually talk and hear each other. She thought he'd hit rock bottom. Good. It was about time he started working his way back up to the man he'd once been. Or at least a man sort of like him. "Because you're a part of me, Dean. You always will be. Even when you're being a complete dick, which has been a lot lately, I have some feelings for you. I don't want you hurting like this. I've never wanted that."

"Do you forgive me?"

"No, not today." She sighed. Forgiveness was going to be a long time coming. "But we'll talk tomorrow." Turning, she left before he could say anything more.

* * *

Dean felt drained and numb, devoid of emotion and emptied fully of the toxic anger that had filled him. Hopefully that was a good thing and not a prelude to more of it settling inside him. He didn't think he could function much longer with the levels of rage he'd been carrying around with him.

Strange. Rage had always been Sam's problem, not his.

Opening the bottle Jo had left, he dry swallowed a pill, then got up from his chair. He was about one step from feeling like he needed a hospital bed for a few days -- just for a guarantee of rest, not because he was hurt that badly. Pulling his t-shirt over his head, he hissed at the pull of the sore muscles in his back where he'd fallen through the railing.

Okay, maybe he really was that hurt.

He hadn't expected Cas to fight like he had, though he should have remembered that Castiel did know how to fight. He'd done it many times since Dean had known him. His punches still held a good amount of force, Cas knowing just when to add his weight to the blow to give maximum pain.

Dean brushed his teeth, shuffled over to his bed and finished getting undressed before sliding beneath the covers. He turned out the light on the table by the bedside and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as the pill he'd taken began to work.

"I don't want to be like this anymore," he said.

But how did he change anything in a world that had no future unless he could find the Colt? How could he be any different than what he was? How…

Dean slid sharply into sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 9  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

Jo hadn't told Dean what the pills were on purpose. In his current state, one pill would knock him out for hours, rest that both his mind and body needed most desperately. Cas had mentioned to her more than once that Dean had frequent insomnia and when he didn't his sleep was restless. One pill should do it. After all, Castiel was used to those pills and one was what he took to attain a state of utter oblivion of the world around him for hours.

Just in case Dean woke earlier than she thought, Jo was up at dawn, waking Cas long enough to give him his own pain pills. He moaned and groaned and lay there in full physical remorse for that fight with Dean, claiming that any inch he dared move brought fresh waves of unending agony.

It was probably true.

She kissed one of the few un-bruised places on his face. "I'll be out most of the day, so I'll send someone to come stay with you and get you anything you need."

His swallow was loud. "Where are you going?"

"Dean and I have some talking to do and he's in no condition to fight me."

"Devious."

"If I need to be. Got a preference who I send?"

He thought a moment. "Maggie or Melanie. Both know how to stay quiet. Quiet is good." He groaned again. "I beat up Dean last night."

"You sure did and you don't even have alcohol to blame for it, but he beat you up, so you're even. Now you two can stop acting like a couple of tomcats fighting over who gets the female."

Cas raised his head off the pillow and squinted at her. "We weren't --"

"Yeah, you were." She smiled, leaning over and kissing him again. "Get some rest."

She arranged for Maggie to stay with Cas for most of the day, then snagged Melanie at breakfast to relieve her mid-morning at Dean's, not taking no for an answer. Melanie tried to protest, to claim she had to work at supplies, but Jo overrode those protests. She thought Melanie would be a better nurse for Dean than any of the other women running around camp, herself included. Melanie would be gentle if she had to touch him because of her lingering wariness of him. It was with reluctance that Melanie agreed to come around ten.

Once her breakfast was done, Jo procured a thermos of coffee and headed over to the infirmary to get Alan's prognosis on Dean's condition. He greeted her with a quick glance over the tops of his glasses, then went back to checking his supply shelves and moving things around on them.

"I'm assuming that since you didn't send for me that Castiel doesn't need medical attention?"

"I patched him up. He's bruised and hurting pretty badly, but he'll live. Give him a couple days and he'll be up and about like usual." She leaned on the exam table. "What's the story on Dean?"

"He'll live," he echoed her words back at her, then turned to face her with a gentle smile. "It's not a bad break. He's had a lot worse before. It'll heal just fine and, like Castiel, he'll be up again in a few days. More than two, likely a week or just over if you can keep him resting. It'd be best if he did rest that long. Aside from the nose, it's mostly bruises, scrapes, and pulled muscles. Nothing rest won't cure. The trouble will be keeping him down that long."

"Why didn't you give him painkillers last night," she asked, looking at the neatly laid out medicines on the shelves. He was fussy about his shelves she'd noticed. There was a certain order to the supplies that he claimed made it easy in an emergency to find the right one.

"_You_ did though, correct?"

"Enough for four days."

He shook his head. "Make it three and no more. I figured you'd go see him and if you didn't I was planning to go this morning and check in on him."

He figured she'd go see him. Jo pondered that a second. Everyone in camp probably knew she'd gone to see Dean the previous night. "Three, huh? Okay, I'll take some pills out of the bottle then. So, if it's not a bad break, why the tape on his nose?"

Alan turned back to his shelves. "To keep him from touching it all the time and making it worse. Every time he _does_ touch it, he'll feel the tape and leave it alone."

Jo laughed at that. "In theory. He's just as likely to rip the tape off because it's annoying him."

Alan chuckled and nodded his head. "You do have a point. I'll check in this afternoon."

Jo went to Dean's cabin, up the steps and inside. The thermos of coffee would start him off and if he showed an interest in food after a couple cups, she'd get some for him then. No sense in having some sitting out if he wasn't going to eat it. She set the thermos on the table and took a cup off the open shelves over by one window, placing it with the thermos.

The cabin wasn't as neat as Cas's and needed dusting. Jo suspected Cas had a little obsessive-compulsive in him. He had to have the bed made in the mornings and things had to be just so on two of the trunks. He liked things put away, nice and orderly. Dean however, didn't seem to mind if the bed was unmade or if his clothes were in a pile in one corner. She sat on his couch and read until she heard him start to stir. Marking her place, Jo got up and stepped to the bedside, waiting for him to notice her.

Dean rolled over with a long moan. He opened his eyes, focusing on her with a sleepy frown. "Jo?"

"Mornin', Sunshine." Careful not to jostle the mattress, she perched on the edge of the bed.

"Sunshine?" He shifted a little, peering at her curiously. "How's Cas this morning?"

"Hurting. Like you are, though I don't think as bad considering he didn't fall through a railing and land in the bushes. You managed to take out one of the bushes completely, by the way."

"Those bushes sucked anyway." He made a noise that sounded like the start of a laugh and ended in a cough. "I'm glad he's hurting."

"Oh you are, huh?"

"Serves him right for picking a fight in the first place."

Jo shook her head. "Unbelievable."

Dean raised up onto his elbows. "Ow." After a minute in that position, he pushed up to sit, muttering a few choice words as he did so. "What's unbelievable?"

"You are. You and Cas. Both of you. Cut the indignation, Dean. You're not glad he's hurt any more than he's glad you are. You're just in a mood today because you're in pain. Now, do you think you can get out of bed for awhile?"

"Coffee," he countered.

"I brought a thermos and it's all yours."

Raising a hand, he touched his nose and sucked in a hissing breath. "Damn, that hurts. Get me one of those pills."

"Um…please would be good."

His stare wasn't friendly. "Please," he bit out through clenched teeth.

"Get up and come to the table and you'll get it. Then you have coffee." She stood. "Are you hungry?"

"Not yet."

Within ten minutes, he was at the table, a robe on and loosely tied. Jo shook out a pill and dropped it into his palm, then poured him some coffee. He drank half of it in three gulps.

"So, you said we're going to talk?"

She'd been thinking about this conversation they needed to have since she'd gotten up and there a few things she wanted to say with a guarantee of no interruptions. "First you're going to listen. If you can't handle that, then there's no point in my even being here any longer this morning. I've got a few things I have to say."

"I'll listen."

"Are your ears open, Dean?"

He nodded, attention raising from the coffee cup to her face.

"Good. You and I were over a long time ago. This weird jealous bit you've been doing since I got here is wrong and I think you know it. The way you've been acting…. I was willing to be friends, but I don't know if I can do that now. If you can't accept me as I am today, it's not possible." She sat back, crossing her arms. "I love Castiel. I know you can't bend your mind around it, but please, will you try? I love him and, Dean, he loves me. So what if it's not a conventional situation with us? Like my life has ever been average."

He opened his mouth and Jo held up a finger.

"Shush, shush. I'm still talking."

Dean lifted the mug, saluted her with it, and took another drink.

"As for your speculation about me and Cas's extracurricular activities, you're very wrong. I'm strictly a guy girl and you know that. Come on, use your brain. They're affectionate people. Relax a little and they'd be all over you, too, hugging and kissing. They're not shy about showing their affection. You used to like women hanging all over you." Sitting back up, she opened the thermos and refilled Dean's mug. "So…you want to tell me what's up with you? Why the jealous crap?"

He took a deep breath, fingers restless on the mug, moving all over it. "Last night, Cas said that I was hoping that everything that had been wrong between you and I back then…that it would be right now because…." He sipped the coffee. "The because doesn't really matter. He, uh, hit it right on the head. I wanted that closeness and I wanted so badly to connect with you and have it be perfect and right, but I can't do that anymore. I can't express it, can't have someone close, can't…. It's like I've lost the ability completely." He licked his lips. She could see the naked vulnerability in his eyes. He looked like he was afraid she was going to lash out at him. "I can't keep losing people that mean something to me and if we'd made that connection and…. Jesus, I can't even explain it without sounding nuts."

"No, I get it." She understood what he was trying to say. "You've pushed aside feeling for so long that it's hard to tap back into it." Jo crossed her arms on the table top. "You can't keep ignoring emotional connections. We need those, especially now. People die. It happens, has always happened, and will continue to do so. Dean, you're going to lose people and yeah, it's going to hurt like hell. You'll miss them. I miss my mom. I think about her every day and have moments where something will happen and I'll think 'oh, I've got to remember to tell her that', but I can't. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I don't. The point is, you can't do this to yourself forever. I know it's the Dean Winchester coping method, tried and true until now. Pack it all away, shove it down so deep it's like it's gone, and keep on shoveling any pain you feel on top. Keep up that method, over and over."

He flinched, shoving his mug away and copying her pose, shoulders hunching.

"The problem with that is that too much is toxic and Dean, you're drowning in it. You have to deal with those feelings. The anger, the depression. You have to grieve, but you can't wallow in it. It's not healthy. You have to accept that you're going to have pain in life and let it go."

For a moment, Jo thought he was going to say something, his lips parting, and when he didn't, she continued.

"Allow me to help you a little. My mom's death was not your fault. Do you hear me? Ellen Harvelle's death was not Dean Winchester's fault. She did what she thought she had to and you know as well as I that Ellen Harvelle always did what she made up her mind to do. You couldn't have talked her out of it and more than I could have. She knew exactly what she was doing and it wasn't only me she made that sacrifice for." Stretching out a hand, Jo placed it gently on his forearm. "She loved you, too, Dean. You were like a son to her even after you and I called it quits. She never stopped loving you. My God, she'd slap you upside the head in a second to see you behaving like you have."

"It's too hard to process." His voice was thick, gaze fixating on the table top.

"When you let it build for years, yeah. You know, you're no good to those people out there in this condition. If I'd know that my coming here with you was going to be a catalyst for this, I might not have come. Maybe this is for the better though, that you had a major meltdown with me and Cas rather than, say, Melanie or one of the others who don't know you very well." She squeezed his arm, taking on a gentler tone. "I think you should take a few days. Hole up here, let the camp run itself. It is possible for us to run operations without you overseeing every little detail."

"I don't do that. I've delegated --"

"How many times a day are you checking on things, making sure this or that is the way you want it? You're kidding yourself if you think you've delegated all you can. I've been watching you, Dean. You've got this iron control over everything, like you're afraid to let anyone decide anything without you. Geez, Bobby would slap you upside the head too and call you an idiot in the process."

Dean looked like a little boy in the principal's office, his head bowed and miserable expression upon his face. Jo steeled herself for the next bit of conversation. She knew he didn't like talking about Sam, acting like Sam had never existed.

"I get that you feel responsible for Sam making the decision to let Lucifer in --"

He shoved her hand off his arm. "Jo, don't."

"No, we need to discuss this." She spoke as quickly as she could. "You were always responsible for him, felt that way even after he was grown. You practically raised him. That's a big sense of responsibility."

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Then just listen, okay? Please?"

After a moment, where his lips tightened and his eyes closed, he nodded. "Fine."

"It's not your fault." Jo made sure to enunciate each word in hopes that he'd hear them and take them to heart. "Sam was a big boy, fully grown and capable of making his own decisions. You have no reason to feel guilty."

"I wasn't there to stop him."

"Not your fault."

"I should have been there, but I turned him out. I cut him out of my life and even when he called begging to be let back in, I cut him loose. I wasn't there when he needed strength."

"Well, Atlas, that's a pretty big load to bear. It's _so_ your fault that Sam listened to a fallen angel with the nickname 'father of lies'. Oh, it's your fault, mm-hmm. The sheer force of _your_ will could have kept that from happening if only you'd been with him. Sam sure couldn't ever make his own decisions on anything, could he? Why, he had to be told what to eat, wear, think…." She paused, raising her brows. "Is any of that sounding ridiculous yet?"

"I'd almost forgotten how much of a bitch you can be."

"I'm not liking you very much either, jerk."

He ran a hand through his hair. "It's all my fault, Jo, and I don't mean only Sam. I mean all of it. The Apocalypse, everything."

"Right. Again, Atlas --"

"Ask Cas. He'll tell you it's true." His attention focused on her, the pain in his eyes deep pools that she thought she herself could get caught in them and drown. "When I was in hell being tortured, I broke. A righteous man who breaks…well that's the beginning of the end. _Me_. All those seals. Lilith. I handled Sam all wrong on the blood issue and about that deceiving bitch Ruby and it _was_ my fault. My choices, Jo. _Mine_. We're here now because I made all the wrong decision, one after the other. So before you sit there and tell me to deal with it, think about how you'd be feeling in my place. Ask Cas to tell you the full story. Get him mellow enough and he will. Hell, get him sexed up enough and he will. He'll tell you anything you want to know."

She sat in stunned silence, attempting to process what he'd told her. Not once had he ever mentioned what he'd gone through in hell, avoiding the topic, refusing to share that pain with her. "You didn't know," she whispered.

"No excuse."

"You're not omniscient. No one in their right mind could expect you to…to _really_ carry that weight."

His eyes were bright, unshed tears swimming in them. "The angels did."

"They were wrong."

"That's what Cas says, though the words sound a little hollow from that bitter human perspective his loyalty to me got him."

Getting up, she went around the table to him and leaned down, placing a kiss on his forehead. After a moment's hesitation, she kissed his lips, too. "Just for the record, I don't blame you, not for any of that." She touched his cheek. "You look like that pill is starting to work. Why don't you lie back down and get some rest?"

"You sounded like Ellen just now." He let her help him back to the bed and take his robe. When he was beneath the covers, head elevated a little because of his nose, she tucked the covers over him.

"You know, even when you're not being a likeable man, you're still a very good one."

Dean's hand covered hers for a brief second. "Thank you." His eyes closed.

Jo left the cabin and sat on the steps outside, thinking about everything that had been said. Maybe he could work though some of that pain, but the bulk? Geez, it'd take a team of therapists centuries to get him through half of that. Life and the angels had done a number on him.

He and Castiel both.

By the time Melanie came by, she was ready for a break.

* * *

When Jo asked Melanie to stay with Dean for awhile, Melanie wanted to refuse. She might not be as afraid of him as she'd been, but she did still have some fear. He was an intense man, nothing like laid back, gentle Castiel. She said yes, though, agreeing only because it was Jo who asked her. Aside from Alexis, Jo was her best friend here in the camp. Melanie knew she could talk to Jo about anything, even if the topic made Jo uncomfortable.

She gathered a few things to keep her occupied: a couple books, a sketchpad and pencils, Alexis's iPod, and a deck of cards, placing them all in a purple messenger bag that Alexis had been embroidering on when she couldn't find anything else to embroider. Maybe she'd make a few sketches of Dean while he was asleep. She already had a sketchpad filled with pictures of other people. Chuck at his desk in supplies, Jo and Cas sitting together playing cards, Alexis and one of her students, and more.

At first, Melanie was wary of being in the cabin alone with Dean even though he was sleeping. She curled up on the couch, which was a lot more comfortable than Cas's couch, the cushions molding to her body. She read for awhile, or tried to rather. Her attention strayed easily from the pages and over to Dean.

He was sprawled on his back, the covers twisted about his waist. Occasionally, he'd shift position and when he made a tiny noise in the back of his throat, a little groan, Melanie got up and stepped to the bed.

Was he cold, maybe? Should she cover him back up?

He didn't look cold. She studied him, admiring those wide shoulders, his muscular chest, and flat stomach. When he wasn't all beat up, she thought he was kind of cute. Still somewhat scary in manner, but cute. Leaning over, she touched her hand to his shoulder.

He didn't move.

His skin was warm, firm beneath her fingers. Melanie touched his jaw, slid her fingers along the stubble there. She liked the curve of his mouth, fingers slipping up to it, thumb sweeping across it.

What am I doing, she thought, and jerked her hand away. What if he woke and caught her?

She returned to the couch and picked her book back up. As the hours passed without Jo returning or Dean waking, Melanie began to feel more at ease. The cabin was warm and the sound of the rain pattering on the roof was soothing, making her sleepy. If she was in Cas's cabin, she'd climb on the bed and take a nap. Neither Cas nor Jo would mind. Cas would probably join her. Here though….

Melanie fell asleep.

* * *

Dean woke hungry, his stomach growling, remembering quickly that he hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day. After fighting with Jo, he hadn't been hungry and then earlier this morning he'd been in too much pain to consider food. He opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling. He was glad it had been a long time since he'd been this hurt. His entire body ached with the slightest movement.

It was raining outside. He laid still, listening to it and attempting to gear himself up to getting out of bed.

Slowly, he managed to stand and headed for the bathroom, noticing there was a woman on the couch, but not registering that it wasn't Jo until he came back out. It was Melanie, he discovered, a little surprised by that. How had Jo talked her into coming? While he'd been careful not to make her cry for weeks now, she'd continued to be wary of him even after he'd let her have that body oil. She was asleep on her side, a book still clasped in one hand.

His head throbbed, temples pounding. It was probably time for a pain pill, but where were they? He didn't see the pill bottle and while it seemed a shame to wake Melanie, he decided it'd be easier to wake her than search for the bottle himself. "Melanie."

She woke with a gasp, sitting and pushing her hair back from her face, her book falling to the floor with a thump. "I didn't mean to fall asleep!"

"Relax. You're fine." He held his hands up. "Do you happen to know where Jo put my pills?"

"Um…yeah. They're here." Struggling up from the cushions, she went to the table by the window, plucking the bottle from behind a pitcher of water.

"Thanks." He took the bottle from her, shook out a pill and looked at it. If he took the pill now, he'd be falling asleep right about the time Melanie got back with food. If she consented to go. "Hey…do you think you could manage a tray in the rain?"

"Sure." She nodded, crossing her arms. "You're hungry then?"

"I could eat. Why don't you go get us something?" He put the pill away, deciding to wait until after eating before taking another one.

"Us? As in…you want me to eat with you?" She seemed stunned by that.

"Unless you're not hungry. I could use the company. I haven't actually sat down to eat with another person in.…" He tried to calculate and realized it made his head hurt worse to attempt it. Dean shrugged, a small lift of his shoulders, not enough to pull at the sore places on his back. "Let's just say it's been awhile."

Melanie reached for her jacket and tugged it on. "Do you want anything in particular?"

"Don't bother with the line. Go straight back to the kitchen and talk to Emily. She knows what I like. She'll set us up."

"Okay."

While she was gone, Alan came in to check on him, announcing that Dean needed a good week's rest, preferably more. Dean wondered if the rest of the camp would agree. Jo certainly did. Maybe he'd take that rest, see if he could start leaving some of his pains, mental and emotional as well as physical, behind.

He thought he'd like to try.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 10  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: Thank you all for the reviews!

* * *

On the third day of his resting period, Castiel came to see Dean.

"You look like I feel," Cas told him, moving to the couch and sinking down onto it without asking. He walked with that languid, boneless grace he'd acquired, showing no obvious ill effects, such as sore muscles, that he rightfully should after their fight.

"Wish I felt like you look." It was unfair, in Dean's opinion, that Cas already looked halfway healed in only three days, his bruises insulting in their light colors. "I see you're out and about. Causing trouble?"

"Always." He rested an ankle on one knee and stretched his arms along the couch back.

"Corrupting innocent young things?"

"Absolutely." He chuckled. "Speaking of innocent young things --"

"Melanie," he guessed without waiting for Cas to finish the sentence. What other innocent young thing could he mean? It wasn't like there were many in the camp.

"Got it in one. She likes you. Body oil, a bracelet, and a few nice words go far with her."

"I know nothing about a bracelet," Dean remarked, slowly standing to grab two glasses and the whiskey bottle off the shelf before joining Castiel on the couch. He hadn't actually given the charm bracelet to her. He'd just taken one look at it and suggested to Chuck that it looked like something Melanie might like. Kitten and puppy charms all the way around it. Sweet and innocent. Two words he had no trouble associating with her. It had been Chuck who put the bracelet in a bag with her name on it and dropped it off at her cabin when she and Alexis were out.

Everyone knew Chuck was sweet on her. How could they not? He wasn't exactly subtle. He made smores for her at the campfire, or whatever treat they were having, liked to sit next to her at meals, and seemed genuinely worried about her welfare.

"Of course. My mistake," Cas said in a tone that indicated he knew very well what had happened. It was likely he _did_ know.

Dean handed him a glass, poured a healthy dollop of whiskey in both glasses and set the bottle down. "She seems like a nice girl."

"She _is_ a nice girl. Quiet, affectionate, cheerful…. Melanie is good to have around. Her smile can brighten the day."

Clinking glasses, they drank in silence a moment.

Cas leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I'm sorry about the railing."

Dean eyed him a moment, took in the excessive innocence in his expression and laughed. "No, you're not."

A tiny grin curled Cas's lips and he glanced at Dean. "You're right, I'm not. I've been telling you for months to get that fixed before someone falls through it on accident."

"I would've gotten to it eventually. I didn't expect it to be _me_ falling through it."

"Those bushes though…." He looked at Dean square on, the innocent expression returning. "They're a shame. Those were nice bushes."

He snorted. "What, are you high already today? Those bushes suck. They reek of cat pee even when there's no cat around."

They drank another few minutes in silence, Cas returning his attention to the ceiling like it was the most fascinating thing in the cabin.

Dean looked down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid slightly before taking a long gulp. "Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Do you really love her, like fairy tale, happily ever after, one and only, whole nine yards, you'd die for her love?" He hated to ask, hated that he felt he had to, but he had to know for sure how Castiel felt about Jo. He wanted to believe that she could have that happiness she wanted, even if it wasn't with him, because when it came right down to it, he really did want Jo happy.

"Indeed I do." The response was immediate, with no hesitation, only an instant affirmation of that truth.

He sighed, a heavy, weary sound. "I wish I could have loved her that way. I wanted to. Still do."

"If wishes were horses --"

He gave a quick snort of sad laughter. "Yeah, I know. We'd all be riding."

"That we would." Cas shot several glances his way in rapid succession, then shrugged. "I don't know what she sees in me, if it's any consolation. I'm a drugged up, bitter, horny ex-angel who'd rather be screwing the nearest willing woman than fighting. The hell if I know why she loves me back."

"You give her whatever she needs. Emotional, physical, I don't know. Whatever it is, it's something I can't." He tossed the rest of his whiskey down, enjoying the slight burn as it slid down his throat. "Don't throw her away like I did. You hold on to her as tight a you can for as long as you can."

"I plan to."

Dean set his glass down and stood, moving to his bed and sitting on the edge. "I, uh, I need to rest."

Cas swallowed the last of his whiskey and stood. "I'll see myself out." At the door, he paused. "Good talk, Dean."

"Yeah. Good talk." Once the door was closed, he let his shoulders slump and head hang down. He had no more pain pills to take when this one wore off the rest of the way. Jo had taken some of the pills from the bottle, saying it was Doc's orders, leaving him with barely enough for three days.

He laid down, keeping the pillows bunched so he could breathe without feeling a throbbing in the bridge of his nose. When he woke, Melanie was sitting on the end of the bed watching him, her knees drawn up and arms wrapped about them. No wonder she and Cas got on well, he thought, raising up onto his elbows. She had that same habit he did of watching people sleep.

"Dinnertime already?" He cleared his throat, pushing up to sit and running a hand along the back of his neck. Once sitting, he could see that the pose she was in was pushing her breasts up and together in a pretty display of cleavage. Her blouse had slipped down on one shoulder and forward on her chest, revealing the smooth curve of that shoulder and the fact that she was braless. Always a good look in his opinion. Enough of her was displayed that he knew there was no bra. There couldn't be. Dean couldn't help but admire the view -- why not look since it was out there anyway?

"Just about." He saw her bare toes wiggle. The nails were painted bright pink and she had a ring on her right little toe. "I talked Nathan into bringing the food for me."

"Sweet talker."

A little smile hovered at the corners of her mouth, a flush coloring her cheeks a very becoming shade of red. "I asked nicely and he said yes."

"Be here soon?" There was a knock on the door before he'd even finished the query and he got up from the bed as Melanie let Nathan in. The smell of oregano and garlic made his mouth water and he sat at the table, ready for a nice genial meal where he didn't have to think about camp matters or anything except those light topics they discussed.

* * *

Melanie was surprised to discover that she liked Dean. She _really_ liked Dean. When he was being nice, he was…nice. Charming. Not the word Jo would use, she suspected. The lunch she shared with him was pleasant, the dinner that same night even more so, and when he invited her to eat with him the rest of the week he was hiding out in his cabin, she accepted with only a slight twinge of anxiety.

Every afternoon when she returned, he was sleeping. She liked to sit on the end of the bed and watch him. He was more at peace in sleep, those hard edges softening, the late afternoon light filtering through the west windows kind to his features. There was something appealing about him that made her want to watch him, to study his features over and over, like a hunger inside her that could only be filled by doing so. She couldn't get enough of looking at him.

In the evenings, after she'd left Dean's cabin, Melanie found herself daydreaming about him, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Or touch him. Be touched and kissed by him.

She was curious. 'Curiosity killed the cat', her mother would have said. Only after she'd started management classes had she heard the rest of that saying from one of her classmates. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but 'satisfaction brought it back'. Maybe, just maybe, her curiosity about Dean could be assuaged. Somehow. She sketched him, both when he was in front of her and from memory, her favorite sketch the one she did of him asleep in bed, the covers twisted about his body and his chest bare. She was embarrassed one evening to realize she was doodling his name over and over on one page and ripped the page out of the notebook before anyone could see it, ripping it up and tossing it into one of the burn barrels across the camp from the cabins.

Slowly and surely, Melanie developed one massive crush on Dean.

* * *

Dean refused to let Jo cancel the meeting he was supposed to run. Jo was ready to scream at his stubbornness, even though she'd been expecting it. Dean could be amazingly bullheaded. He told her to go, to listen and take notes, and let him know what happened.

Grumbling all the while, Jo did. When he embraced something, he embraced it, and Dean had decided to take that little vacation Jo and Alan had told him he should take, spending every hour in his cabin. He refused to step outside or even let more than two people in at a time, arranging for Melanie to bring him meals.

The good part of having to attend the meeting was that Jo understood a bit more about the camp.

She returned to Dean with a sheaf of notes. "Dean, who is your second-in-command?" Every leader needed one, especially in situations like theirs where Dean could be seriously injured or killed on a raid or mission. She'd gotten a sense in the meeting that perhaps Bobby had been the second and Dean had never really confirmed another one, so the people at the meetings were uncertain who was in charge when Dean wasn't there. That could spell disaster if something did happen.

"Cas," he replied without thinking.

"Are you sure?" She glanced down at the papers. "Because he says, quote, 'Me? Not unless he's changed his mind in the past few months.' unquote."

"Chuck then."

Jo shuffled the papers. "Quote, 'Me? No, no, I can't. I don't know anything about leading people. It's, just, no, no, don't make me, please?' unquote." She tried her best to get the right pleading frightened tone Chuck had used for the full effect.

Dean pursed his lips and sighed. "Did anyone else at that meeting step up to the plate?"

While she could have given him a full, very entertaining account of what each person had said and the ensuing conversation, Jo decided not to. This was a serious matter that needed discussing. "Nope. The rest were somewhere between Cas and Chuck on the denial spectrum."

"Huh." He put another pillow behind his back, taking his time fluffing the pillows and maneuvering them. When he finally sat back, Dean's innocent, 'I just had an idea' expression made her wary in a single second. He gestured with a hand. "Why don't I just have you do it?"

"I don't want --"

"Temporarily," he amended. "Until I can decide who'd do the best job."

"Dean…." She could see getting stuck with it when he forgot to pick someone else. Or simply decided to not pick one and see if she objected. He would, too. If he decided she'd be best, he'd do whatever he could to make it happen, including tricking her into taking the job.

"Come on, Jo. It'll be a week or two, tops. Did they listen to you in the meeting? Respect your views and opinions?"

"Well, yes…." It wasn't like she wasn't on good terms with all of them anyway. She and Cas usually hung out with Jim and Ashley after the Saturday night campfires, she saw Chuck everyday, and Yeager was always good for a few games of poker or darts.

"It'll be temporary," he assured her.

She quirked a brow at him. "Define 'temporary'."

"Only until I find someone else qualified. Tell Cas and Chuck and they'll pass it on to the rest of the camp."

Which sounded awfully permanent to her. All the qualified people had been in that room with her and none of them wanted the job. She dumped the papers on the bed beside him with a disgusted twisting of her lips. "Fine. Here's your report. Nothing new, didn't need a meeting, camp is running fine without you. You could probably take another week and still be good."

"Of course we needed a meeting, Jo, and we'll need one next week, too. It's orderly. A nice orderly routine soothes the average person and when they see their leaders going about daily business, they aren't as afraid. They assume we're on top of things."

"It's all for show?"

"Not all, but a little psychology in running this place doesn't hurt."

How right he was. Sometimes Jo was amazed at how well he could see right into the heart of what needed doing. "You amaze me sometimes…_Donovan_."

"Only sometimes? I must be slipping." He smiled. "And if I'm Donovan, does that make you Juliet or Ham?"

"Maybe a bit of both considering our history." She was pleased that he'd gotten the reference. The original miniseries 'V' was as old as she was. Mike Donovan, reporter turned fugitive and eventual leader of the rebellion. Juliet Parrish, the love interest, a doctor, and also a leader. Ham Tyler, former mercenary who later fought for the resistance and had a grudging friendship with Donovan.

"Juliet was prettier."

"I always liked Ham personally."

He shook a finger at her. "You can't stump me, Jo. All those shows and things…I watched them all."

"Yeah, I know." She stood. "Anything else, oh fearless leader?"

Lacing his fingers together, he put them behind his head and leaned back. "I'll let you know."

With a last roll of her eyes, Jo left him alone.

* * *

He was having dinner with Melanie on the sixth day of his retreat from the camp, when Nina came to visit. Out of the three women, Nina, Nicole, and Nora, she was the only one who bothered to see how he was, which meant she either actually cared or was simply worried that the status she thought she had by screwing him occasionally might be damaged. He leaned towards the latter reason. Nina wasn't particularly affectionate. Their arrangement was purely physical and he liked it that way.

In that moment, Dean decided to simplify things for awhile and cut Nora and Nicole loose. He also decided that it would be wise to keep Melanie away from Nina. The look Nina fixed upon her boded ill for Melanie if Nina caught her alone. She most certainly didn't like Melanie and for a good reason. Bitchy and selfish couldn't easily compete with sweet, nice, and caring.

When they were done eating, Dean persuaded Melanie into sitting beside him on his bed. She'd relaxed enough around him that he didn't need to do much coaxing.

"I don't think Nina likes me," she said, smoothing the bedspread with one hand.

"Nina doesn't like anyone."

"She likes _you_."

"She likes power," he corrected, "and she thinks she has some through me." He reached for the cooling cup of coffee on the bedside table. "I let her believe it because it's easier when you know what a person wants. I want sex, she wants sex and power. It's a physical relationship, Melanie. I couldn't care less if I ever see her outside this bed."

She bit her lower lip, teeth grazing it. "I find it hard to believe she was a nurse like she claims she was."

Nina said she was an emergency room nurse before the virus hit. It wouldn't surprise him if it was really the truth. He'd met some petty, power mad nurses over the years who didn't particularly care about people despite their profession.

"Naughty nurse, maybe. Or Nurse Ratched." The expression on her face reminded him so much of Castiel right then: confused by who Nurse Ratched was, not understanding the reference. While Cas's confusion stemmed from having been an angel, Melanie's was probably from her age. Dean winced a little. She was, what?, nineteen?, twenty? Oh, geez. In life experience he was ancient in comparison. Not a pleasant thought. He suddenly felt all of those years. "Never mind. Enough about her. Tell me about yourself. What was your family like?" He took a drink of the coffee, curious to know how a girl like her stayed the way she was in the world they lived in. He remembered telling Chuck she couldn't be that naïve in reality; that it had to be an act.

Up until now, he'd kept their conversations very light, mostly on her hobbies and things like that.

The request startled her, her brows raising and lips parting. "Myself? Well…I grew up on a farm. My folks were pretty strict, and not what Alexis would call physically demonstrative. They were always worried something bad would happen to me and had all these rules I had to follow to try and _keep_ bad things from happening."

Which could account for how easily she'd fallen in with Castiel's groupies. Dean knew that, sometimes, when kids raised in strict environments stepped away from that, they went wild in their newfound freedom, trying things their family would be horrified to know about.

He could understand parents wanting to shield their children, but life happened regardless.

"I never really had a boyfriend."

Which clinched that analysis. He could see it too. Castiel showing interest in her and Melanie heading straight for him, part rebellion against that upbringing and part crush on the first man to show her romantic emotional and physical affection. It made sense.

"Even when I started taking those management courses, I stayed at home. My job didn't give me enough to live on. I mean, it was only part-time and more an apprentice type position than anything else. You know that farm? The one the animals came from? I'd been here like two weeks?"

"That was your home." The way she said it was a huge clue. _That_ farm. Where he'd shot and killed a family that had been infected. The parents and their two children, a teenaged boy and younger girl of perhaps ten.

They'd loaded up the trucks with the animals they knew they could care for, like the chickens, the dog and the one fat and friendly cat that Emily had adopted. On a second trip, they'd cleaned out the pantry and other supplies in the house and barn. Why hadn't she said anything? He would have been fine with a team taking her to gather some of her own things, clothes and such. "You never said."

"No one came back with you. If they were alive and well, you would've brought them back. Besides, that was my old life."

"You could let your family go?"

"If they were infected, they weren't my family anymore, and if they were dead, they weren't family either." She toyed with the charms on her bracelet. "Don't get me wrong, I loved them, but they weren't easy to live with. I like it here better."

It was almost as though she didn't really understand that they were dead and gone. The emotions he thought she should have right now didn't seem to be there. Unless….

_Damn._

He closed his eyes for a few long seconds, sucking in a sharp breath. Her crying those months, that constant flow of tears…. She'd been grieving for her family.

_Dean, you stupid son of a bitch. _

It made him feel worse for making her cry all those times to understand the reason she'd been so sensitive. Had she told anyone? Cas? Alexis? Anyone until now?

"You _like_ life here," he asked, studying her in light of what she'd told him. It had never occurred to him that anyone could want the camp life, even desire it. To him, it was merely a necessity, but for a girl who'd lost her entire life it could be a refuge. An escape.

"Sure." She turned, crossing her legs in the lotus position and smiling. "What's not to like? I have room and board for working a few hours a week in a job I like, and people who love and care about me. I have a best friend, two really and no one tells me I'm worthless or that I'm not wanted."

He wondered who had told her both those things.

"People _want_ me here. Cas and Jo protect me." The trust shining in her eyes was almost uncomfortable, once again reminding him of just how young she really was. "_You_ protect me, Dean. I know you protect all the camp, but I'm a part of it, right? It includes me."

He shook his head, putting the cup down. "How can you trust me?"

"Cas trusts you," she pointed out. "He doesn't trust just anyone. Then when Jo arrived, she trusted you, too. I figure if they can, I can." Her smile widened. "And I'm not scared of you much anymore."

"I don't think I can argue with that logic."

"Then don't."

He hesitated before asking, "You do know what's going on outside that fence out there, right?"

Her smile faded and she looked down at her hands, clasping them together. "I know the virus is a supernatural thing. Cas and Jo explained that to me once. I know there are things out there that belong in horror movies that are real. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts…demons. I know the people that hunted those things tried their best to stop them and that those things aren't the only things out there. Angels are real, Lucifer walks the earth, and the 'end of the world is nigh.'" She said the last bit in a dramatic voice, very much like a child determined to be brave when facing something that frightened her.

"Melanie --"

"I know Cas thinks I'm fragile, but I'm stronger than he thinks. I _am_."

Her tone indicated that she was trying hard to convince herself of that.

"I've heard things and I can make connections myself. I'm not stupid. I may be a little naïve sometimes I guess, but never stupid. I saw the news, read the papers, tried ignoring it all like everyone else I knew until that day at the inn…." She tucked her hair behind her ears. "I know it's bad out there and it's worse than it was, but in here, in the camp, it's good. I have a good life here."

Good? He wouldn't categorize it as good by any stretch of imagination.

"I don't understand you, Melanie," he admitted, though he thought if he took the time he could get her figured out completely. This attitude of hers? Smacked of burying her head in the sand and continuing to ignore the world outside.

And they were all letting her. _Enabling_ her even. Was it healthy? Was it for the best? Did it make sense to let her go along this path? What happened when the day came that she had to protect herself and she couldn't, because no one had made her learn how?

"I'm not complicated. Trust me. I'm pretty simple."

"No, you're more than you think." He patted the pillows beside him. "Come here." When she'd moved close, he slid his arm around her shoulders, wanting to make it up to her a little for the way he'd treated her. After a moment's hesitation, she laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling against him. He smelled herbal shampoo and a hint of perfume, her body warm against him. Enticing. Tempting.

But not in a sexual way. He never thought he'd see the day when he looked at a pretty woman and realized that, while she _was_ pretty and he enjoyed looking at her and flirting with her, he honestly _didn't_ want sex from her. He had no real desire to kiss her or touch her in any way that might give her the impression he wanted sex from her.

It was a strange feeling for him.

He should send her right back to Cas. Cas had no problem with that attitude she had or her age.

But what Dean should do and what he did do didn't always match up.

He needed to figure out exactly what this feeling was and if he wanted to pursue it.

* * *

Jo didn't need Dean to tell her that for her to be accepted as even a temporary second-in-command by the camp in general she needed to go out on a raid or one of those separate missions they had from time to time. People expected to see her learning those things she'd been avoiding.

Her first raid was with a small team under Castiel's direction. He'd refrained from popping pills or any other mind-altering substance only because she'd asked him to. She wanted his mind clear so if anything went wrong, he could direct them.

Jo wasn't going to make _that_ mistake again.

Without chemical aid, he was tense, jumpy, hyper-aware, and generally jittery, his body in constant motion -- tapping his feet, drumming his fingers, rolling his head on his neck, and all sorts of annoying nervous ticks, including popping his knuckles and making a strange clicking sound with his tongue. Once those had a foothold, he began complaining of a headache and nausea, his shirt soaking through with sweat.

Thinking back, she realized it had been months since he'd not ingested some sort of drug on a daily basis. He was having withdrawal symptoms from something he was used to taking. Or many things he was used to taking.

Great. And on a raid, too.

It had to be a miracle that they arrived back at the camp all in one piece and with everything they'd gone out to get. By the time she and Cas reached their cabin, he was argumentative and sullen as well. Jo went immediately to the absinthe, fixing it the way he liked and shoving it at him before going outside to sit on the steps. She warned anyone who started to come over that it wasn't a good time.

Her watch beeped the evening dinner hour alarm as Dean left his cabin and crossed the clearing to her.

"Heard the raid went well," he said, hands sliding into his jeans pockets.

The sound of beads clacking together warned her of Castiel stepping out to join them and she glanced over her shoulder at him rather than answer Dean's statement. "Are you done being a pissy little bitch yet?"

Cas crouched behind her. He'd changed shirts and looked quite a bit more mellow than he had earlier. "I apologize for that." His fingers slid along her spine in a slow caress.

"You could have said something."

"I didn't know it would be that bad."

"Withdrawal," Dean guessed with a little smirk. Jim had probably told him what had happened. She thought she'd seen Jim going into Dean's cabin a little while earlier.

Jo stared up at him, frowning. "Yeah. Big time. Jumpy Jasper here almost shot Jim in the face. Twice."

"He startled me," Cas explained.

"He was irritable, argumentative, nervous and an all around high-strung pain in the --"

"It's not all withdrawal, Jo." Dean leaned against the cabin, one foot on a step. "You and Ellen were gone before the full…" he shrugged, "weight, I guess would be right, of the scope of human emotions started getting in the way of hunting."

Wrapping an arm around her, Castiel moved to sit behind her. "The nervous jitters --"

"The irritability and argumentative tendencies --"

"Are just naturally me stuck in a human body --"

"In a high stress situation. The pills were --"

"_Are_ a coping method."

She looked at Dean, then Cas, then Dean again. "Wow, that was so cute how you just finished each other's sentences. You mean you both knew some sort of drug was needed and didn't tell me?"

Dean's smirk widened into a grin. "I would've -- if I'd any indication you were wanting to discontinue doses."

"How did I not know this?"

"Day to day, I can stand the emotions and feelings for a few hours at a time without aid." Cas rested his chin on her shoulder. "But in high stress situations, I find it difficult to turn them off enough to function properly. I thought I'd be okay on this raid because it wasn't a big one. It was a little one we've done a hundred times. Easy. Quick. Nothing high stress about it. It didn't occur to me that I might start having withdrawal symptoms while we were out. So, yes, I'm done being a 'pissy little bitch'."

Dean pushed off from the cabin wall. "Good. Let's go eat. I'm starved. Emily is making cheeseburgers tonight and she promised me steak fries."

"No, no, no. Wait." Jo held up her hands. "When did you start taking the pills, Cas?" She'd thought it was after the camp was established, but now she wasn't so certain it wasn't further back. "I mean the very first pill you ever took."

He and Dean shared a long stare and when he turned back to her, Cas looked regretful, as though he really didn't want to tell her how long ago it was. "After you and Ellen left. It was maybe a month or two later, three at most, right about the time the last of my angelic powers fizzled."

She pointed at Dean, beginning to understand now the love-hate they seemed to have developed for each other. One day they were best buddies and the next they snarled at each or ignored each other. Back and forth they went, with no indication until they interacted which behavior they'd engage in. "Your idea?"

Dean met her gaze straight on, remorse sliding through his eyes in a quick swirl and slipping away. "At first."

"I'm the one who ran with it, Jo. Dean may have handed me a pill bottle, but he didn't cram those pills down my throat. I'm the one who took them, liked the escape they gave, and added to them. A little booze, a little pot, a few more pills, mix in some lovely women and here I am today."

"If we'd stayed," she started to ask, then didn't want to finish the wondering. If they'd stayed, would it have made a difference? Knowing what she now did about her mother's relationship with Cas, was it possible he might have had an easier time of it with Ellen there? Was it possible Ellen could have kept him going without the drug habit? Or the women?

"I don't see how that would have made a difference," Dean said, bending his knee and leaning on it so that he was closer to her, talking directly to her. "You and I made things high stress. Ellen could only counter so much, Jo. I don't think there would have been much difference in the end. The jitters still would have ticked me off enough that I handed him the first pill."

No wonder Dean was so hostile to Cas's pill popping, alcohol, and other substance habit while not batting an eye when anyone else in camp did it. _He_ was the one who'd given Cas that first pill to cope, not realizing Cas would take it to the extreme he had. He felt responsible for it as well as all the other things that weighed him down.

Who would have ever guessed that an angel could have an addictive personality?

As for Castiel, there was the bitterness about needing something to help him cope, maybe a little anger at Dean for not saying yes to Michael and ending things before they got to this stage, and guilt that his habits caused Dean more pain.

"No wonder you two are so screwed up," she said with a weary shake of her head.

To her surprise, they started laughing, Cas hugging her and kissing her cheek before releasing her and standing. "Yeah, well, it's a way of life. The finest anesthetic, Jo." He caught one of her hands and gave a tug. "Come on. Let's go eat. I think a cheeseburger would really hit the spot right now."

It was the first relaxed meal she'd shared with both of them at one table since 2010.


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 11  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

That meal Jo remembered wasn't especially memorable save that it was the first time she'd personally seen Castiel eat anything. She'd seen him drink before. Dean was always handing him something those days, whether coffee, water, beer, or whiskey. Food though? Cas had been holding out, refusing to consider that he might some day need food.

While they sat looking at menus -- Dean, Jo and Ellen -- he'd suddenly reached across Ellen for the dessert menu, flipped it open, and ordered three desserts: cherry pie à la mode, raspberry cheesecake, and the restaurant specialty, a decadent chocolate cake with ganache and extra chocolate sauce. He specified to their server that they were to come out in that precise order to coincide with the appetizer, soup/salad course, and the actual entrees that Dean, Ellen, and Jo ordered.

"_Cas?" Dean stared at him._

"_Yes, Dean?" He behaved as though he hadn't just done something strange._

"_Dessert?"_

"_Yes." He looked at them. "What? You each mentioned what you'd like to have. The choices were clear. Ellen wants the cheesecake, Jo the chocolate and, Dean, you mentioned the pie…." He stopped talking, blinked several times and asked, "Why are you all staring at me?"_

_Jo watched her mother turn in the booth. "You readin' my mind again, Cas? I told you once already how I feel about that. Don't think I'll put up with it."_

"_I didn't." He was bewildered, looking from her to Jo to Dean and back again. "I heard you clearly mention you planned to indulge just this once because this restaurant has the best raspberry cheesecake you've ever tried."_

"_None of us said anything about dessert." Dean crossed his arms on the table. "Now, I'll admit to thinking about having a piece of pie later --"_

"_And I'm having the cake," Jo interjected. "To go." Because she knew she couldn't eat it and her entire meal. The cake was too good not to take a piece back to the room with her._

"_But no words were actually spoken."_

"_Of course you said them. I understand fully how you all feel about my listening in on your thoughts and I've not done so in months. Dean, you told me it's not polite. I've been…."_

_Ellen tapped him on the shoulder._

_Cas looked at her, his expression fluctuating from bewilderment to annoyance to weary contrition. "Ellen, that's a physically impossible anatomical suggestion." He glanced down at the table. "No, you don't need to think it twice." He sighed. "I'm not doing it on purpose." Cas kept his attention on the table. "You don't have to shout. I apologize. It appears I'm…mind reading again and I can't stop it. I shall endeavor to 'reign it in' though I make no promises."_

Later, it was clear that that particular power had fizzled like an old radio finally giving out, tuning in and out, up and down in volume, eventually leaving him only able to hear Jimmy. Until that too went for the most part, the two of them fused together in the body that had originally been only Jimmy's.

That day however, it had been amusing, something forgotten as he tried a bite of each dessert before sliding the plates to them.

Jo felt Cas's hand on her leg and covered it with her own, squeezing it.

"Where were you just now?" He was curious, voice lilting just a little.

Across the table, Dean also looked at her with curious eyes. He and Castiel had cleaned their plates, while she'd barely touched half of hers. Jo slid the tray aside, not surprised when they took that as an invitation to divvy up the remains of her meal onto their plates.

"I was remembering that 'dessert for dinner' meal we had once. You know, the one where you ordered the desserts we were all thinking about?"

Cas dipped a steak fry into ketchup. "Ahh yes. Late December of 2010. Close to New Years. About two months or so before you and Ellen left."

It was Dean who asked, "What brought that on?"

"I don't know. I just thought about it. No reason."

They accepted her denial of a reason right then, but she wasn't surprised when Cas brought up that time in their lives later that night, when the lights were all out and they were snuggled together under the blankets.

* * *

"Why didn't we talk back then, Jo?" Ever since her admission at dinner of remembering that meal, he'd been thinking about what their relationship had been back then, from February of 2010 to March of the next year. He wondered on it. Why hadn't they ever talked like they did now? He'd had many conversations with Ellen and of course he and Dean had always talked, but why hadn't he and Jo? Most of what he'd known about her until her arrival at the camp had been from Dean and Ellen.

He laid his head on her bare stomach.

"You were still an angel." She stroked a hand along his cheek. "I wasn't really sure what to say, even when Dean and mom threw us together on jobs."

"Those misguided attempts to keep us safe." Trouble had always found them though. He remembered pulling a creature off of Jo, then collapsing in utter exhaustion as she'd killed it, his angelic strength giving out. "We were trouble magnets."

"I felt awkward. You weren't really approachable, Cas, and you had a lot going on."

He didn't point out that Ellen had had no trouble approaching him. Maybe, he thought, it really only boiled down to one thing: Jo had been focused on Dean, on trying to make it work with him. Everyone else had been periphery. He rubbed his cheek on her stomach. The conversation could quickly grow depressing were they to continue it, dragging up the changes in him during that time and so forth. Cas refused to let it go on that far, choosing instead to turn playful and forget all about conversation entirely.

"Hey, that tickles," she complained in a teasing tone. "Stop it."

Of course he didn't and of course she started laughing and squirming.

Of course one tickle led to another and to an itch that had to be scratched….

* * *

Dean took his recovery slowly, easing himself back into the camp routine in degrees. Getting Jo to agree to help was a stroke of genius and he wondered how long until she demanded he find someone else. He didn't want anyone else. She was as qualified as the rest of them, more so in his opinion, and he knew she wouldn't take any crap from anyone. Since he'd gotten that call from Ellen, it had been Jo he'd wanted in the job. Castiel had been right about that as well as everything else.

Cas was right an irritatingly large amount of the time.

He spent time with Melanie, attempting to puzzle her out and make sense of those things that still didn't quite fit together. As he observed her, he decided that what she needed was guidance, someone to look up to who would give her a sense of safety and that approval she craved. Since that fight with Castiel and the resulting choice to spend time with Melanie, it had become apparent to Dean that both of those things were what she wanted more than anything. Safety and approval.

The sex with Cas and the others? Not about sex at all, but about that safety and approval she felt with them. She felt loved, needed, and wanted.

The friendship with Jo? All about an approving mother figure. Jo'd probably hate it if he were to even suggest that, but he thought it was true despite the relative closeness of their ages. Might even be reinforced by Jo's refusal to join in the orgies. Likely was. Jo was an authority figure who'd been nice to her, who listened to her, willingly spent time with her, and gave her advice. She was someone who didn't want the same things others did from her; a complimentary presence to Castiel's part in Melanie's life, providing a counter to Cas's viewpoint and giving Melanie another way to see things.

It had never been that Jo didn't acknowledge what was out there. She knew it and had known it most of her life. Nor had she fallen fully into Cas's pursuit of decadence to anesthetize pains. She'd been tired, he knew it now and could accept it. She'd rested up, and while she wasn't how he'd hoped she'd be, she'd stepped back into the fight at least a little. He knew she only went outside the camp because people expected it, that it was a part of her duties, her job. It wasn't what she wanted to do, yet she did it anyway, letting herself be pulled back.

He thought about that part of conversation he'd once overheard between her and Castiel. How she'd mentioned feeling she should be fighting and wanting not to and Cas had told her that feeling could fade with patience. Jo hadn't let it. She still carried that feeling of responsibility inside her. Jo wasn't a quitter. She didn't give up even though she'd desired to at that point.

Dean understood about a sense of duty. He had that in spades. There were many times he'd wanted the same thing and had soldiered on in the end.

The one thing she and Cas didn't seem to be taking care of with Melanie was her refusal to accept the reality outside. She insisted camp life was grand, refusing to talk about the outside after that one conversation he'd had with her, changing the subject if he so much as hinted at wanting to discuss it. Not good. That was what he'd determined about her attitude. It wasn't good to be like she was, without the knowledge to fight if she ever had to.

See, Dean _did_ know something about psychology. He did sometimes read the odd range of books that showed up here. He knew enough about human beings as a whole to understand about giving a frightened group order and a sense of security; about giving a frightened girl enough approval of the right kind that she began to gain confidence and pull herself into reality.

He wanted to prepare Melanie for what was going to eventually come. _That_ was what his feelings were. Dean vaguely remembered having a similar sort of sensation when Sam was little, so vague there wasn't a particular memory in mind, only that same sensation when he thought of those days.

It was a parental type of feeling, which sort of freaked him out a little since he didn't consider himself nearly old enough to possibly have a daughter Melanie's age.

After thinking about it and growing used to it, he decided to just go with it. He'd do that parental father figure stuff and teach Melanie how to survive if she had to be on her own. It wasn't going to be easy and there was a lot to teach her, but he thought that he could get Cas and Jo, maybe even Alexis into it with him. He'd do that, really make it up to her for how he'd treated her, and try to reverse some of the damage her real family had done with that 'ignore it' attitude.

* * *

As a child, Jo had often thought that being an adult was going to be great. She'd never ever have to do anything that she didn't want to do. As an adult, however, Jo knew better. There were always things that one had to do and didn't want to do. Responsibilities and duties couldn't be escaped, nor would she trade adulthood and go back to being a child.

One of those things she had to do was that job Dean foisted on her. She supposed she could have refused, but he only would have kept on her about it until she gave in, so why not just do it? He'd gotten it in his mind that she was the one he wanted in the position. That much was obvious in the fact that he didn't begin to search for another like he'd said he would. He'd had Cas and Chuck pass it around that if he couldn't be reached for decisions, Jo was the one to go to.

So much for fading away. Truthfully, though, she didn't think she ever could reach the point Castiel had with duty. Maybe she just wasn't as broken down as Cas had become. She'd never lost her faith or her identity like he had. It wasn't part of who she was to let it fade. She still wanted to do some good out there even as the possibilities for good began to disappear. Jo figured that as long as there were people, there'd be someone out there to protect. To the very last day of earth, there'd be that task.

So, Jo shrugged it off, learned those things she knew she had to, dealt with the people and situations she was supposed to and, in the process, discovered that her performing those tasks seemed to take some the tense edge from Dean. He was more relaxed and seemed quieter. While he wasn't any of the various Dean's she'd known him as since that day they'd first met, she thought she could grow to like this one if he chose to stick around. There was a carefulness to him that had nothing to do with being hurt, wounded or emotionally distant. A new man slowly emerging from the beaten, smashed up shell he'd been. A new man in time for his thirty-fourth birthday.

It was understandable he'd be cautious in that.

He didn't celebrate it that she saw, letting the day go by without anyone wishing him well, even Cas. Cas told her Dean didn't like to be reminded of birthdays, especially his own. Spring wasn't a good time for Dean and hadn't been in many years. Jo found that more than a little sad.

She went out on a couple more raids, then put herself down as an alternate if they really needed her. It wasn't likely they would. There were always people wanting to join up. Castiel started going out a bit more and they developed a little ritual between them before he left.

He'd hold her, kiss her, and ask, "Hold down the fort?"

"Of course," she'd tell him, smile and kiss him again.

His hands would slip around to brush against her breasts. "That's my girl. Love you."

With a final kiss, he'd head out the door and to the truck.

The scavengers they'd been having trouble with appeared to move on to harass other camps, giving them two and a half months of halfway easy raids and missions. It was funny to her that halfway easy was defined by only having to deal with Croats, demons, and U.S. soldiers. They had no trouble until March, when the scavengers returned, managing to wound several in the team, though the team was able to get away that day. The return ticked Dean off. The timing of the ambushes always coincided with one of the big raids where they came back loaded down with whatever they could get. They'd discussed in private that there must be an infiltrator in the camp, but who? Those who had access to information enough ahead of time were trusted and had proven their trustworthiness.

Jo had her own suspicions, but no proof, beginning to watch the people with more care, even those considered trusted.

She headed to the weekly meeting, late for the time Dean had set, hurrying into the cabin and sliding into the chair to Dean's right and Ashley's left, directly across from Cas. Chuck was at the end of the table, Jim to his right. Yeager wasn't present this time. He was recovering from the flu like a good portion of the camp. Jo was lucky she hadn't gotten it, nor had Dean. A miracle with Dean considering his usual stress levels, but Jo had never seemed prone to illness. Ellen had called her the 'wonder child of health'. When Jo was little, she'd been the only one in her fourth grade class not to get chicken pox only to get it in sixth grade when no one else was sick.

Castiel had been one of the first to have flu symptoms, along with Alexis, Melanie, and Maggie. He and the rest of the last raid team had fallen ill a couple days after returning and since those three women had spent a lot of time with Cas those two days…. It was a wonder to Jo that she hadn't gotten it since she'd been the one nursing all of them through it, struggling to keep them all separated when they wanted to be close for emotional comfort. All four had recovered quickly once they did what they were told to by Alan.

Jo took one of the cups from the center of the table and poured herself some coffee from the carafe. They'd discontinued having cookies or anything besides coffee or water until the round of the flu was over. Jim and Dean also had cups, while Cas held a can of something in one hand and Ashley had water. Chuck was the only one without something, refusing when she asked what he wanted.

"Nothing, I'm good, thanks, Jo. It's nice of you to ask. I appreciate that. That's, uh, nice, really. I mean it."

She'd noticed he tended to babble when nervous.

"Now that we're all here," Dean began with a long look Jo's way. He was trying for annoyance, she could tell in the way his brows drew together, but his eyes and mouth weren't in it, gaze calm and mouth too relaxed for actual irritation with her.

She grinned at him, not about to apologize for being late. She had a good reason she'd share if he asked. She'd found that lost big box of shotgun shells they'd been searching all over the camp for. It had been hidden in the trunk of the Impala. Pretty clever she thought. Who would think to look in there? The Impala, though stripped down and getting rustier by the day, was still Dean's baby. No one was supposed to touch it. Getting the box removed and carted to the munitions area had taken up a chunk of time. "Yeah, some people have no sense of time, do they? How inconsiderate."

His lips twitched before he looked away. "Chuck has some important things to talk to us about today. Floor's all yours, Chuck."

Chuck shuffled the papers in front of him over and over. "Uh…yeah. As you know, I do a weekly inventory and while we're good on food and toiletries for the time being, Doc's supplies are low after this run of flu and that ambush last week. He's worried he doesn't have enough antibiotics, antiviral meds, and…." He paused, face reddening.

"Yes, Chuck?" Dean's brows rose. "Spit it out."

"Well, we need to pick up all forms of, um," he sighed, "birth control, like immediately. Today preferably. Seems the two boxes labeled 'Ortho' and 'Trojans' weren't actually either of those things inside. Doc says if we don't get either now we're probably going to have a lot of pregnant women to care for." He looked at each of them for a couple seconds. "A lot of them." Another round of glances. "Soon. Like late November and December babies. Maybe a January one."

All eyes turned to Cas and Jo stifled a snicker when he looked up from setting his soda can on the table to find everyone staring at him. He licked his lips, returning their stares with a slightly amused one of his own.

"What? Like I'm the only one in this room who's been having sex."

"You _have_ been having more of it than anyone else, so statistically speaking Doc's problem is largely yours." Jim looked like he was biting his lip trying not to laugh.

"And having it with more women," Chuck added. "Just saying…."

Jo's snicker burst free, garnering her a raised brow from Cas.

"Embrace your slutiness, Cas." Amusement danced in Dean's eyes. "It's the first step."

"Shut up," Cas replied with a genial shake of his head. "Doc's problem doesn't have anything to do with me. I've procured my own back-up supplies. Tell them, Jo."

"You mean the box that's as big as I am with about every alternate non-prescription method available?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Filled." Jo illustrated by waving a hand over her head. "Like overflowing. Every time he goes out he brings back more. That box is stocked better than most adult erotica shops. I'm surprised none of you noticed him cleaning off the shelves everywhere you go out there."

"I believe in being prepared," Castiel explained. "What can I say, I'm a safety guy."

"That's what usually comes back in that backpack he takes out." Jo hadn't even noticed the backpack until Alexis had wanted to know if he'd brought back anything new one evening. Whereas Jo tended to bring back books, the magazines that remained, and little things to decorate the cabins, Cas returned with condoms, massage oils, and various sexual aids. She kept hoping she'd run into a copy of the Kama Sutra for him, though she didn't think there was much in there he didn't already know from one source or another.

"Cas," Reaching over, Dean squeezed his shoulder. "You're _so_ my hero. I mean that."

"You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."

When the laughter had faded, Dean cleared his throat. "Okay then. Problem solved. Everyone see Cas after we're done here for some rubbers."

"Funny, Dean."

"Hey, you're the one with an excess of raincoats. Share 'em if you got 'em and apparently, you've got 'em." He sobered, looking over at Chuck. "Tell Alan we'll do our best to get him what he needs, but the truth is…it might not be out there anymore. We're not the only ones scrounging and supplies are getting harder to find. All supplies. We'll make it a priority. Until then, he'll have to make do and do what he can."

The warning was well founded. They were having to go further and further from the camp to raid for supplies. Soon, they'd be driving hours just one way, long dangerous trips that sometimes took them through quarantine zones where the dangers were multiplied by US soldiers with orders to shoot to kill anything that moved.

Life was getting more dangerous.

In the days following the meeting, they lost three people to the flu, two of them children, and one adult to pneumonia brought on by the flu. The adult with pneumonia was Katie, one of the women who'd been with Cas the longest, almost from the beginning of the camp. Jo was with her at the end, holding her hand when her fever got too high and nothing would bring it down, Katie's breaths a rattling wheeze in her chest as she struggled to breathe.

Cas had gone back to the cabin to sleep not an hour earlier, having finally been convinced that his presence wasn't going to determine whether she lived or not. Her death so soon after he'd gone wasn't going to help his mental state any. Jo stayed with the body half an hour, trying to think of the best way to tell Cas, before covering her up and leaving the quarantine area that had been set up. She followed the rules that would have seemed slightly ridiculous even a year earlier: removing the long gown, mask, gloves, and shoe covers, a procedure as involved as taking off one of those protective suits the CDC used, and washing her hands like a doctor did. She informed Alan, who sat on the porch outside, so tired that his exhaustion radiated from him in waves. He did all he could to keep it from spreading, but in a contained atmosphere like they were, when something like that spread, it spread.

As prepared as they were, there was little they could do to save any of them. They had a limited number of medications and if something was resistant to meds it was a crapshoot as to who survived.

At least Croatoan hadn't gotten inside the camp. They were vigilant about signs of that infection. One person with it and they'd all be done for.

Sometimes, Jo felt like they were living that story she'd once had to read in school. In it, a prince and some of his nobles hid away from a sickness that found them in the end anyway. Had that been a Poe story? Jo couldn't quite remember. That whole section of English class had bored her to tears.

Dean arranged the funerals and let Jo deal with the rest. She found she was good at that, all the emotional stuff that had sent him into a decline before. He remained careful with emotional things. A good idea. After that week of recovery, where he'd spent time every day with Melanie, he'd gone to spending only a couple hours every few days with her. Cas still spent more time overall with Melanie than Dean did.

Melanie said they talked. She told Dean about growing up, he taught her those card games she wouldn't play otherwise. Casual things. Jo wondered if Dean realized he was adding fuel to her crush. Did he even know about the crush? She didn't think there was any way he could possibly miss it, not Dean Winchester, but then…sometimes guys were clueless. Was Dean?


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 12  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

"Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Castiel rolled away from Melanie and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, all amorous thoughts leaving him in a quick rush. Melanie's crush on Dean had, until right then, not been anything of an issue for him. It didn't really matter if she had the hots for Dean or if she spent afternoons or even nights with him. This though? This pissed him off. He didn't care who she was with the rest of the time, but when she was with him alone, he wanted to have her sole attention, not be a stand-in for Dean Winchester. He wanted to snap that she should at least try to be focused on who she was with, but gritted his teeth before the harsh admonishment could leave his lips.

"Please don't be mad," she whispered.

He reached for his clothes, pulling them up onto the bed beside him. Her hand touched his back, then jerked away.

"Cas…. Say something. Please?"

She was nearing tears, he could hear it in the slight catch to each word. He closed his eyes, trying to find a calm cool place before he said anything. Another minute, he thought. He needed another minute to be that man he'd always tried to be with her. Opening his eyes, he reached down for her clothes too, also setting them on the bed, counting out the pieces. Lacy panties, jeans, blouse, two socks. Her coat was by the door on a hook.

She sobbed.

Cas took a deep breath and turned, drawing her close with a hand at her neck, pressing his cheek to hers, his lips near one ear. "You don't have to keep coming here if you'd rather be with Dean." It was hard to push out those words in an understanding tone. "It's okay to --"

"But I'm not," she said, whispering again, hand raising to grasp at his.

"Not?" He loosed his hand from hers, set hers back in the pool of the covers at her waist, and returned his hand back up, fingers stroking the hair by her temple. "Not what?"

"I'm not _with_ Dean. He hasn't…he doesn't...he never…."

"Not at all?" Which surprised him. Dean, after all, liked pretty women in his bed and Melanie was a pretty woman who, by her recent behavior, certainly wouldn't tell him no.

"No. Never. I don't think he…well, that he notices me that way. I mean, I know he notices, but he doesn't do anything."

Somehow, that made it even worse. She'd cried out Dean's name and Dean wasn't even doing so much as copping a feel? Why not? Did he think there was something wrong with her, because there wasn't. Personally, Castiel thought Melanie was a better lay than that Nina Dean seemed to like. Nina reminded Cas of a female human Zachariah, only in an attractive package that used her assets to full advantage with men. And some women. Sure, she was smoking hot, but she was about the only woman in camp that he'd ever turned down. Her kisses and caresses had left him cold, uncomfortable, and he'd put a stop to her advances before they'd even gotten as far as his bed.

"You should go," he told Melanie, releasing her and moving back to the edge of the bed to begin getting dressed. She was dressed before he'd even gotten his pants fully on, hurrying from the cabin.

The incident bothered him, ticked him off, and when Dean asked to meet with him he was in what Jo referred to usually as a pissy mood.

* * *

Jo could only guess what was on Dean's mind when he gathered her, Alexis, and Castiel in Cas's cabin. He gave no verbal clues or single idea as to his agenda, standing in a pose of silent patience, his hands resting on the back of the straight chair near one window as they waited for Castiel to arrive.

Cas was the last to arrive, frowning in suspicion when he came in. "This had better not be another intervention. That was old by the end of the first time you tried it."

Dean cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, it's not. I know better."

"Oh." He cheered up, some of the tension draining from his features. "Well, then what's the issue that so urgently needs discussing?"

"Melanie."

"Ahh." Castiel glanced at Alexis and Jo, sliding his hands into his pockets. One brow shrugged. "Urgent, huh?"

"Relatively."

"Relative to what?" He was going to be contrary, Jo could see that he'd already decided that. He was going to drag his feet and be a pain in the ass about whatever Dean planned to discuss. She hated when he got in that sort of mood.

"Just sit down, will you?"

Jo crossed her legs and wondered again where Dean was headed. She knew the time he spent with Mel had the girl over the moon and Dean didn't appear to be discouraging it.

"Okay." Cas sauntered to the end of the bed and sat down, taking his own sweet time about it. "What about _Melanie_?"

Dean sat in the straight chair. He was all business, laying it out quickly. "Simply put, she can't shoot, she can't fight, and she can't take care of herself. She's young, yes, as you pointed out to me before, but so is Alexander. He's nine and he can shoot. Beth is eleven and can work a knife like Jo. They both practice a little every day."

Alexander was the boy Cas had made smores with and Beth was Ashley's daughter. Ashley was big on Beth learning those skills. Alex though, was an orphan, one of the few children they'd found who'd survived by himself in a quarantine zone long enough for them to find him.

Irritation flashed in Castiel's eyes, rolling about like a tumultuous wave and settling in to stay. "So what?" Dean's matter-of-fact statement obviously annoyed him, the long lean line of his body tense. He was spoiling for a fight for some reason. Jo wondered what had happened since that morning to cause his mood. She hadn't seen him since breakfast. "She doesn't go out on raids or missions. What need does she have for those skills if everyone around her has them? Tell me that."

Jo saw Dean's shoulders shifting, his body readying for an argument. He nodded as though in agreement and leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. One hand dangled, the other moved to gesture as he spoke.

"What happens when Lucifer decides he's had enough waiting and sends his Croats after us? We're on borrowed time already here. What happens to her if they get through our lines and there's no one between her and them? Wouldn't you rather she take a few with her and go down fighting instead of fainting or hiding and hoping she can survive it? Cas, they could tear her apart and Jo can tell you, it's not a good way to go. We heard Ellen screaming until she couldn't scream anymore. It was the sound of personal hell right here on earth."

Sometimes Jo still had nightmares of that; of hearing her mother scream in agony while the Croats used their hands to kill her because they didn't have weapons. The thought that her mother had willingly gone to such a death on the chance that sacrifice could buy Jo and Dean time floored her every time she thought of it.

"She doesn't want to learn." His voice held more than a trace of stubbornness.

"He's right." Alexis spoke up, moving from the floor to sit on the other side of the bed, the trunk between her and Cas. "I've tried, talked to her until I'm blue in the face, almost pleaded with her to go with me to practice. I told her to just learn the safety measures, that's all, and she won't. She says everything's good here and all that stuff's outside. We're protected from it." She laughed, the sound bitter. "Protected, geez. It's an illusion. I can't change her mind. She doesn't listen."

Castiel shook his head, hair tumbling on his brow. He needed a haircut and Jo made a mental note to give him one later. "I know what you're going to ask me to do, Dean, and I won't. That first week with her, I told her, no I _promised_ her, that I'd never make her do anything she doesn't want to do. Now that promise wasn't just about sex, it included everything, even this. I made a promise and I meant it."

"You have an influence over her. She asks you for advice. If you tell her you'd like her to learn, she will."

"And break my promise?" Disgust turned his lips. "No."

Dean clasped his hands together. Jo thought he was keeping his temper rather well. "Can you at least agree that she needs to learn gun safety?"

He couldn't argue with that. No one could.

"Of course she needs to learn. Everyone does. There are guns everywhere here. It's common sense."

"We agree on that. So if she asks your _opinion_, will you tell her that?"

For a long moment, Cas stared at him, then he tipped his head back to look at the ceiling, leaning on his hands and crossing his ankles. His lips parted and when his gaze darted back to Dean, Jo saw a stubborn glint had taken root in his eyes. She could see it leeching across his face and into his posture the longer he was silent. He was going to oppose this as long as he could. "No."

"Why not?" Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Because I know she doesn't want to learn and for me to express an opinion that might compel her into learning would be breaking my promise. It would be using that influence you claim I have over her in a devious, underhanded way to achieve _your_ end. Sounds like someone we both know, doesn't it?"

"Expressing your opinion is breaking your promise?"

He squared his jaw. "Yes."

"It's stating your opinion, not breaking a promise."

"No, Dean, it's forcing her to do something she doesn't want to do. Even doing so in a roundabout way is doing so. It wouldn't change the underlying issue." His lips curved in a smug, infuriating grin. "You want it to happen," he pointed at Dean, "_you_ make it happen. I'm done trying to make people do things because the boss man says to; done manipulating when I know it's not for the best. Those days are gone."

Jo knew some of what Cas referred to. Zachariah had been big on manipulation and making people, more specifically Dean, do what he wanted them to.

"You don't know it's for the best," Dean argued.

"Yeah, I do. You want her to learn so badly --"

"She can't protect herself. You do see that, right, Cas?"

"-- you crack your leader whip and order her. She'll follow an order. Make sure you back it up with some yelling, too. You know, for emphasis. Make sure little helpless Melanie is well aware of how pathetic she is."

Jo had to side with Dean in this matter.

Alexis drew her legs up onto the bed, curling them beneath her. "Nice suggestion, Cas, that'd scare the crap out of her."

Dean's attention slid from Cas, to Jo, Alexis and back to Cas. "And make me the bad guy again, thus ensuring she runs back here for comfort. Funny how all paths for her lead back to you, Cas. Everything she does returns her here to you. Someone upsets her, she's running to you. She's hurt, she's tired, she's _anything_ she finds you. She doesn't want to do something, she comes to you and you keep her insulated. This promise you made is another way to --"

Jo thought she could see the point Dean was heading for with the use of that word 'insulated'. Alexis had already mentioned Melanie refusing to acknowledge what was outside. If Dean was going where she thought, he had a very good point. Castiel did enable her behavior, though he'd argue that he didn't.

"To me? Really?" Cas chuckled. "Do you want to go there, Dean? Before we do, let's talk about that influence _you_ have over her. That's what I find really interesting to contemplate. I mean, she went from being afraid of you to wanting to jump your bones after a few days alone with you. That's amazing. Admit that, at least. It _is_ amazing."

He looked away without answering and Jo considered Dean for a moment. It seemed he _was_ aware of Melanie's crush on him and he was uncomfortable for it to be brought up.

"No reply to that? Yeah, I thought you knew about her feelings. She's not exactly subtle." Cas pressed on, voice deliberately taunting. "Not spending much time in private quarters alone with her now are you? Not like you did for a couple weeks there." He licked his lips, focusing his stare upon Dean. "So why _don't_ you just use her feelings to your advantage? Hmm? It's what you're wanting me to do. Why should I do it if you're not willing to? Why even have me do it when you're fully capable? Put your arm around her, lean down, and whisper it in her ear like a sweet nothing. Give her a kiss or two, cop a feel, hell, take her to bed --"

"Not going to happen." The words were bit out between clenched teeth, but he was keeping his temper so far.

"Why not? Isn't she _worthy_ of being a Winchester screw toy? Come on, what are you waiting for with her? I'm all for anticipation sometimes, but isn't it getting a little ridiculous?"

What had gotten into Castiel today? Jo shifted position on the couch. How had they gone from Melanie learning to shoot and fight to this?

"That's not the issue, Cas." Dean sat back and set a hand on the trunk beside him, drumming his fingers on it. "We're discussing --"

The attempt to change the subject failed.

"I think it is an issue. What's wrong with her, hmm? Want to tell me that? Where is she deficient? Not like you're particularly discriminate, but you act like you haven't been doing the same thing I have this whole time. I bet if we actually tally up women, your count would be just as high." He jiggled a foot. "I don't get it. You'll screw Nina and all those others, but you practically pat Mel on the head and tell her 'good girl, now run along for a bedtime story and a glass of warm milk', like she's a child. Maybe it's not something wrong with her, but something wrong with _you_."

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes a little. "What's really pissing you off, Cas? Why do you care if I screw her or not? What's your big problem? She call my name or something when you had her on her back earlier today?"

That question shut Cas up, his head turning so he wasn't looking at Dean. Loathing crawled across his face in slow degrees before disappearing.

Jo exchanged a glance with Alexis. For someone who talked about no strings or jealousy, Castiel sure seemed jealous. Dean's guess had scored a hit.

A sad weary laugh escaped Dean. "That's it, isn't it?" He crossed his arms and shook his head. "She screamed out my name and of course there's got to be something wrong with one of us if I'm not doing her like you are; if I haven't even tried to." He tapped his foot a few times on the floor. "There's nothing wrong with either one of us. She's an attractive girl, nice to look at, but I don't want to do her. I want to help her. You know, that thing we were discussing before you went off on a tangent that has nothing to do with her and everything to do with your own offended ego?"

Alexis shrugged. "The name thing happens. We all know it does. It's a big deal, but it's not _this_ big a deal."

"Easy for you to say," Cas muttered.

She laughed. "No, not really easy. I've been called Cheryl and Heather right at the wrong moment. I've even been called a couple guys names. It sucks, and it ticks you off, but --"

"Dude," Dean interrupted, "if this is the first time it's happened to you with the number of women you've banged the past couple years, then you're statistically a freak."

"She says your name right then at that particular moment and, damn it, Dean, couldn't you at least have had the decency to actually do her at least once?" Cas wasn't going to be derailed from the topic. "How can you not want her? Explain that."

"Cas!" Jo stood and began to pace, wondering if they were ever going to get back to the original subject. "Let it go."

"No, Jo, it's okay. I'll answer that." Dean pursed his lips and was quiet a moment. "All right. Say you have two beautiful women side by side --"

"I do frequently." Cas leaned forward, taking the pose Dean had abandoned minutes earlier, forearms on his knees and hands clasped together. "Go on.

"Somehow I'm thinking that illustration isn't going to work and as I don't have the energy to think up another one --"

"It's like going to a museum," Alexis said. She looked at Dean for confirmation, continuing on when he didn't give it. "Right? You can look at all the fine art and enjoy it without wanting to touch it or own it yourself. Or how about…. She's nice to look at, but doesn't really float your boat." She seemed to be getting more into her attempted explanations as she spoke. "No, no Cas, it's like…it's like how I feel about Jo."

Jo paused in her pacing. "Um, excuse me? You…you _what_?"

"She's very cute." She glanced up at Jo. "You are, really, don't think I don't think you are." As though Alexis perhaps thinking she wasn't cute would offend her? "I think you've got a great body and all, but --"

"I don't need to know this, Lex." She heard Dean begin to laugh and try to disguise it as a cough. "Please, don't go on. I'd really rather you didn't continue the comparison." Crossing her arms, she tried to remember how many times she'd changed clothes or finished getting dressed with Alexis in the room. Call her dumb, but it had never occurred to her that Alexis might be looking. That _any_ of them might be looking except Castiel.

"-- but I don't want to get physical with her. Looking? Always good. Doing? Not gonna happen."

Dean finished his cough-laughing. "Yeah, it'd be something a little like that, I guess."

"Seriously?" Castiel kept staring at Dean like he thought Dean was crazy, then transferred his incredulous stare to Alexis. "_Seriously_?"

"Mmm-hmm." Alexis grinned. "Very serious." She sobered, looking back up at Jo. "You're all weirded out now, aren't you?"

"Little bit, yeah." More than a little bit if she was being honest.

"Okay. I'm sorry. Please try not to be weirded out. We're friends only, not now or ever friends with benefits, that was basically my point. But the illustration worked. Cas gets it now."

It certainly had. Castiel no longer looked upset, merely contemplative. Jo stepped to Dean. "Right. Can we get back to Melanie and the issue we're here for to begin with?"

Amusement lingered on Dean's features. He was going to tease her about this for days, she knew. "No, Jo, hold on. I'm still kind of interested in what Alexis was saying about you being cute and having a great --"

"Dean!" Behind her, she heard Cas snickering now, a signal that his mood was changing for the better earlier than Jo had expected. "Will you please focus?"

He gave her a last long amused glance, then nodded. "Spoilsport. If it's okay with Cas and Alexis that we go back to original topic?" They both murmured consent. "I'll have to order her I guess, if Alexis can't convince her and neither Cas nor I are up for the task of seducing her into it."

"I never said I wasn't up for seducing her, Dean. I said I wouldn't. There's a difference."

"Difference noted."

"_I'll_ do it," Jo said, hurrying on before Dean could make a remark about Jo seducing Melanie into it. "I'll talk to her and get her started." She'd actually been thinking about trying to get Melanie to the shooting range soon anyway

Dean's expression became neutral, carefully so.

Cas blinked, eyes widening and head shaking. "No, Jo --"

"I never made a promise to her like you did and I won't lie to her about it. I'll explain why I want her to learn and she will learn. I agree with Dean. She needs to learn safety at least. It's the smart thing to do and really, we all have to do things we don't want to now and then. This is something she has to do, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Honestly, I think she's just afraid of guns and of hurting someone with one accidentally. I'll feel her out about it. Once she's started, the three of you can take up her lessons." She cut Cas off when he started to interrupt. "No, if you're concerned it's the wrong course of action, then you should observe, ready to step in if things do somehow go south. I don't see how they could…but let's have that option for you. Is that satisfactory for everyone?"

It was and, as she walked across the camp with Dean, Jo asked, "Was Zachariah that sneaky?"

Dean chuckled. "Worse. He was a devious son of a bitch, but…you know and I know that this needed to be decided by us _for_ her. She'd never do it on her own."

"You knew that's how it was going to go, didn't you? Save the side trip into sex land. Alexis would express her frustrations, Cas would object, and I'd be the peacemaker between you all, volunteering to do that deed you really don't want to order done."

"You're right, I don't want to order it. I'd rather she not have to learn at all, but at this point, Jo, we need everyone ready whether they want to or not. It's getting bad out there and it's only going to get worse."

"You're preaching to the choir, Dean. In case you didn't notice, I agreed with you in there."

"I did notice. Thanks."

"We do sometimes agree, you know." She waved to the group of children playing a game with Noah. It was a shame that childhood wasn't what it should be for them anymore.

"And we haven't argued in a long time."

"No, we haven't." They walked a few more steps, nearly to the dining hall. "Hey, can I ask you…how long have you known about her crush on you?"

Dean stopped walking, hands in his coat pockets. "She left her sketchbook in my cabin that week after I was laid up. Hard to miss the pictures she drew of me…and the doodles of my name with the hearts and flowers."

"You're kidding." She faced him, searching his face for the truth of that statement.

"Yeah, I am. The doodles are a complete fabrication. The pictures though…. She's a good artist. A little too good with the intimate details despite not having seen them." He looked around them, then back at her. "No, Jo, there's no way I could miss it. A kid would miss it I'm sure, but I'm a thirty-four year old man. I do have some experience with this you know." A trace of sarcasm colored the words. "It's not the first time a girl has had a crush on me. If she starts getting obsessive, I'll sit her down and talk to her about it, but until that happens, if it does, she'll just have to suffer through it. I'm not going to stop spending time with her over it. It'd be ridiculous to do that."

"Any time you spend with her at all alone…."

"I know and I'm being careful. I'm not dumb. I'm a big boy, Jo. I can avoid potentially uncomfortable situations all on my own."

He was so smug that he had it wrapped up nice and neat, all contained and under control, that Jo hated to remind him that sometimes things happened anyway despite precautions. She didn't remind him of that. As he said, he was a thirty-four year old man with experience in the matter. He was ready for anything.

Jo left him there and headed on to supplies for a chat with Melanie.

* * *

By the time Melanie got to supplies for her afternoon shift, she was feeling even worse about that time with Cas before lunch. He'd pretended it didn't bother him that she'd said Dean's name, but she'd seen the hurt in his eyes before he'd rolled away, felt the tense muscles of his back against her hand, heard the tightness in his voice as he kept a close reign on how he spoke to her.

She went about the duties Chuck gave her, neatening the shelves, dusting them, and stocking them from boxes in the very back room of the cabin, but her enjoyment of the task was overshadowed by what had happened that morning. Periodically, she had to pause to wipe her eyes. She wasn't crying, but if she let herself keep thinking about it, she knew she would be soon.

It had never been her intention to hurt Cas. He meant everything to her! Melanie wasn't sure how it had even happened. She'd been fully enjoying what he'd been doing, yet the name that came out wasn't his. She'd been mortified. Still was.

"Mel?"

Looking up, she saw Chuck standing at the end of the aisle. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" He put his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunching.

"Not really. How did you know?" She thought she'd been hiding it pretty well.

"You look…well you just look upset. Is there anything I can do?"

She ran the rag she was dusting with along one shelf. "I don't think so. I think I may have screwed up everything with Cas."

"I doubt that. Cas can forgive an awful lot and has."

"Not this. I hurt him, Chuck, and I didn't mean to."

He came to her, taking the cloth from her, and motioning for her to follow him up to the desk. "Give him a couple days and I bet you'll be fine. Come up and take a break with me. The shelves can be dusted later."

"I'd rather keep working." She followed him anyway, sitting on the cushioned chair when he took the plain hard one.

He looked out the door, glanced around, and reached under the desk and into a large paper sack. "You like Mountain Dew, right?"

"I used to." It was her favorite soda, one she'd indulged in between classes since she knew she'd never get it at home. Her mother had claimed soda would rot her teeth.

He brought a can up from the sack and set it in front of her. "Here. It's the last one I have. We haven't found any in weeks, so I've been saving it for a rainy day."

"No, I couldn't take it. It's yours." Melanie moved it in front of him.

"Now it's yours." He slid it back towards her. "You need a pick-me-up and it's nowhere near as addicting as most of that crap Cas takes on a daily basis."

After a moment, she smiled. Chuck really was nice. Not the cutest of guys, but always kind to her. She liked spending the time in supplies with him. "Thank you. That's nice of you."

The door opened, Jo stepping inside. She nodded to Chuck and raised a hand, beckoning to Melanie. "I need you to come with me." Her tone was serious, expression almost stern.

"Is something wrong?"

"Grab your coat because you're not coming back to work today. Chuck, if you need help, holler outside. Dave and Jack are right out there giving the older kids lessons on car maintenance." She beckoned again. "I mean it, Melanie. Now."

She got up and put her coat on, slipping the unopened soda into her pocket and following Jo outside. "Where are we going?" The thought that Jo might know what she'd done that morning made her uncomfortable. She didn't want Jo to know about it. "Jo?"

"We're going to the shooting range."

"No." She stopped walking, a bit of panic sprouting in her chest. "I don't want to." Guns scared her and after her last experience of having one pointed at her head, she was in no hurry to get close to one ever again.

Jo's expression didn't waver, her voice calm and steady, making it clear she wasn't going to yield on this matter. "You're coming with me. It's not a request. You're going to learn the parts of a gun and how to handle one that may or may not be loaded and when you have that down to my satisfaction, you're going to learn to load and shoot. We'll work our way from one kind of gun to others, starting small." She tilted her head a little to one side. "Now, you can cry and pout or yell and curse, whatever, just realize that I'm not changing my mind. You're doing this. I've already made the decision."

She sounds like a _mom_, Melanie thought. Not necessarily a bad thing. She thought Jo'd make a kick-ass mom. Her tone meant business. "I don't want to. Cas said --"

"That promise Cas made was his own. Not mine, or anyone else's. Cas won't step in here. Dean agrees with me on the necessity of you learning and, frankly Mel, Dean's the head honcho here, not Castiel. You're going to learn and that's final. It's not as scary as you think. Believe me. We'll take it one step at a time. Dean and Alexis will help you as well and if you like, I'm sure Cas would be willing to help. He's actually pretty good with a gun. I want you able to defend yourself if you have to. I understand you're scared, but we might not always be there to protect you. I'd like the assurance that you can take care of yourself if we're not here. I don't want to have to keep worrying about you."

"You worry about me?"

"Yeah, I do. So does Cas, Alexis, Dean…all your friends."

Melanie thought about that a moment. She still didn't want to learn or go anywhere near a gun, but if she had no choice in the matter, she might as well accept it and accept help from her friends. "If I have to."

Jo's smile was gentle. "You do. It'll be fine. You trust me, right?"

"Of course."

"Come on. Let's go take the scary out of a piece of metal."

Melanie followed her to the shooting range, swallowing her fears and taking on the task of learning a new skill that scared the hell out of her.


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 13  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: I read through a transcript and re-watched 'The End' trying to find if they mentioned a specific date or even month when Sam said 'yes'. If they said one, I missed it and can't find it, so I picked a month to use for it. Also -- thank you all for the kind words!

* * *

Jo's twenty-eighth birthday came and went. Unlike Dean, she celebrated the passing of another year, not trying to ignore the time sliding by in a seeming faster whirl of hours with each year she aged. She felt older than she was, as though she'd aged several years in a single one. The day was spent with all those same people she spent her days with, the only difference being in the quiet well wishes and little presents pressed into her hands. There was no cake, only a candy bar Emily had found shoved in the bottom of one box of supplies, forgotten by whoever had grabbed it initially. Godiva dark chocolate had never tasted so good.

Presents were no longer grand things, but were no less dear. Chuck gave her a package of travel tissues. A big 'expense' for him. His obsession was with paper goods such as tissues and toilet paper since they'd quit finding such items regularly. The last time they'd found a big twenty-four roll package of toilet paper, Chuck had sat at his desk hugging it like it was a full body pillow, a tiny blissful smile upon his lips. Jo had expected him to start kissing it, while Dean told him 'don't squeeze the Charmin' and let him have his own roll before he took the package to distribute it among the bathrooms, private baths first. Chuck had started crying, grateful for that luxury. Dean made the rounds, dividing the rest of the package as evenly as possible among the bathrooms so everyone would potentially be able to use some.

Castiel gave her lotion and offered to help her rub it in really well. All of the gifts were things like that. A book from Maggie, a t-shirt from Alexis, embroidered and beaded by her. Melanie gave her a framed drawing for her cabin, one of Melanie's pencil etchings of Jo, Dean, and Cas. She'd chosen to set the scene with the Impala, with the three of them leaning against the hood, Jo in the center between Dean and Cas. Of the three, Jo was the only one looking out of the picture at the viewer, while Dean and Cas looked at her. Dean's expression was sad, contemplative, and Castiel's was pleased, lips curved in that appealing tiny grin he had. The picture was lovely, with a haunting quality to it and Jo thought Melanie had captured the present with an uncannily accurate hand.

Melanie wasn't as constant a fixture in Castiel's company as she'd been. She never mentioned being alone with him after that day, nor did he say anything to Jo about her except in a general group context. He didn't ask about her progress with guns, protesting the decision, refusing to admit they may have made the correct one. He also didn't step in and pull Melanie from it, accepting that the decision had been made whether he liked it or not. That issue was the one thing he remained upset with Jo about, making it clear that he felt a little betrayed at how she'd sided with Dean. No amount of explaining to him that she'd come to that same conclusion all on her own swayed him and Jo finally just dropped the subject entirely.

Perhaps it was for the best that Mel spent time away from Cas. Jo didn't know if it was purely Castiel's decision or if Melanie had decided to keep her distance for awhile, for neither had confided in her. Whichever it was, it kept Melanie from being as dependant on him. It was a good step towards maturity that Melanie needed.

* * *

The decision to step away from Cas had been a difficult one for Melanie to make because he _did_ mean a lot to her. She honestly wanted to spend as much time with him as she always did, but she'd hurt him. He needed to cool down from his anger over her slip of the tongue, anger he denied having, yet she knew was there. She'd talked that decision over with Alexis and not Jo, hesitant to talk to Jo about it. While she thought Jo would understand, she didn't feel comfortable telling her what had happened because Jo was like an extension of Cas. Melanie had come to associate the two of them together in her mind. Where there was Jo, there was Cas, and vice-versa. Cas was upset with her and she didn't want Jo to be too.

With Alexis's help, she came to the conclusion that she needed time from him and that it was okay to take that time. No one would think anything of it.

She also tried to quit fantasizing about Dean as much, which was even more difficult than not running to see Cas all the time. Dean had become everything she thought she wanted in a guy. He was cute, smelled really good, and was physically strong. He was a skilled leader, and once she'd gotten past his scary attributes, funny as well, always having some sort of comeback. And he made those leadership things look easy. But it was hard not to think about him when he spent a couple hours with her every other day and also came to her lessons on gun safety with Jo. He approved of the lessons, she could tell, and it made her feel good to know that. It made her feel like he cared a little about her even if he seemed oblivious to her interest in him.

She tried to occupy herself with work and helping others, continuing to provide the refreshments for the weekly meetings when asked by Emily and help Alexis with the children. She pushed herself to stay busy, not letting herself dwell on the incident with Cas. As April slid towards May, she became more comfortable with a handgun, though Jo and Dean still hadn't started her on actual shooting yet. They'd started her with twice weekly sessions, that low-key slow start Jo had told her would happen. She'd name the parts of a gun, run down how to care for one, load it, and every little thing she could learn without firing it. Melanie hoped that pace would continue, because she had a horrible suspicion that being decent with a gun meant she might be pressed into going outside the camp.

It was bad outside the camp. She'd rather not go out of it ever again. If she had her way, she wouldn't.

* * *

"Is she really learning to shoot?"

Dean looked over his shoulder at Nina on his bed. She was lounging in a way that best displayed her assets, the top sheet wound about her body so as to tease him with glimpses of those magnificent curves. Nina was very beautiful, built, and bitchy. Dean had known a lot of women like her in his life, but he thought Nina could take the prize. She was definitely out for number one and didn't care who knew it.

"Melanie, I mean. I heard a rumor that Jo marched her over to the shooting range awhile back and gave her a lesson in all the basics."

Thus far, she'd shown no animosity to Jo that he'd noticed. A quick mention one evening of how Jo had felled him with a single blow years before had likely been what made her cautious. Well, Jo hadn't felled him exactly, but there was no one here to know that except him and Jo and Jo hadn't refuted the story. Nina wouldn't get into it with anyone who could possibly mar her beauty in any way if ticked off. She was predictable that way.

"Not a rumor. It's time she learned. Guns are just the beginning. I'd like to start her on self-defense and other weapons, too." He really wanted to see Melanie gain confidence in herself and thought that learning those skills would help. An added bonus.

Her brows rose as she shifted position, briefly baring her breasts. "That's a lofty goal."

"It's a necessity."

"Well…." She licked her lips, flipping her dark blond hair over one shoulder. "I could teach her a few things. I know a little about self-defense."

Turning, he watched her a minute, long enough that she actually appeared uncomfortable. She wasn't the sort of woman to make offers like that unless it benefited her in some way, so how would it benefit her? "And why would you offer to do that, because I know it's not out of the goodness of your heart."

"Maybe I feel sorry for her."

Laughter welled up and he let it loose. Nina? Feel sorry for someone? "I step into the Twilight Zone? Rod Serling standing outside gabbing?"

Her expression shifted, the seductive pose disappearing as she made a noise of disgust and reached for her clothes. "God, you're such a dick sometimes."

"I just don't believe you've ever felt sorry for anyone in your life, sweetheart. It's an act." It had to be an act.

"It's not an act," she protested. "She reminds me of someone, okay?"

"Yeah? Who?" He expected her to wilt under the challenge and admit she was trying to play him for some reason he couldn't think of off the top of his head.

Instead, she paused in the act of getting dressed, turning her face away and looking down at the floor as though she was hesitant to admit something personal to him, which she might be. He hadn't exactly invited personal information aside from the very basic things. "My sister, if you must know."

Did she even have a sister? It was possible, he supposed. Nina never mentioned her family at all. She declined to give much in the way of any personal information, which fit well with his own policy. Another reason their arrangement worked out well. He didn't invite and she didn't offer personal tidbits. A nice understanding. "Sure. In what way does she remind you of your…'sister'." He raised his hands, doing air quotes to emphasize. "Because I'm pretty sure you despise Melanie and everything she is."

"Yeah, well, I despised my sister too." Her glance held sadness, self-loathing, regret, and all those things he knew were in his eyes when anyone ever mentioned Sam. It was uncomfortable for him, like looking in a mirror. "Tammy was just like Melanie, a little helpless, stupid bitch without the sense a gnat has. Our folks let her run wild while I had to be the responsible one and try to watch out for her. They were too busy with their high paying jobs to bother with parenting."

"What happened to her?" He looked for signs that she was lying, the facial tics, the body language, and so forth, and saw none. Was she actually telling the truth?

Nina pulled her shirt on and sighed. "I wouldn't go clubbing with her one Friday night because I had a big final the following Monday, so she went by herself. She left with the wrong guy and when he got freaky, she didn't even know how to _start_ trying to get away from him or defend herself. She was nineteen and he beat the crap out of her and left her for dead. A couple days later she _did_ die. She's the reason I decided to be an E.R. nurse. You see things like that everyday in the big cities. Stupid girls who think nothing bad could ever happen to them. If I'd been with her, I never would have let her leave with some guy she'd just met." She uttered a bitter laugh. "So there you go. Bitch Nina in a nutshell. Surprised?"

He watched her finish dressing. A convincing story, but he still didn't think she should be anywhere near Melanie. "Maybe your offer is genuine, but, uh, no. Jo's got her well in hand right now and there are others who've offered to show her things before you. I'll keep it in mind though."

Nina nodded, a jerky movement. "Okay. I'll practice up my piece of self-defense info just in case. It's only the stuff you learn at a beginner class. Jo probably knows it all anyway." She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and secured it. "Two days?"

"Same time, same place," he confirmed. Their standing 'appointment'.

When she'd gone, he flipped open the plain, white paper printed calendar on the table and stared at the month. Six days. He had six days remaining until the anniversary of that day Sam had caved. Or at least the day he'd been told it happened. He wished he knew why Sam had said 'yes'.

He knew he'd never know.

Sam's birthday was hard enough, but the anniversary of his fall? Far worse.

* * *

"What day is it?" The expression on Castiel's face told Jo everything she needed to know. It was May twelfth, the anniversary of Sam's fall. Jo bet Dean would rather just skip May entirely, it being the worst month for him. Sam's birthday, the anniversary of his fall, and the anniversary of Dean's own trip to hell. "And you just leave him alone?"

Cas turned down the sheets and bedspread, folding them carefully along the foot of the bed. "He doesn't want company, Jo. I tried."

"He might not want company, but he needs it." She watched him fluff the pillows. He was having Maggie over in a little while and was carefully making all those little preparations he liked to make.

Hands resting flat on the mattress a moment, he looked up at her. "You're welcome to try. I'll applaud you if you can get him to let you stay with him until midnight."

"Why midnight?"

"Because he says midnight means it's over. Dawn is great but it's already a new day when it comes. I'll tell you though, the hardest time of the day is about ten. By then, he's had the whole day to seethe and wallow in anguish. The pain hits it's peak."

With that in mind, Jo took a bottle of Wild Turkey from the shelf above Cas's pill stash and headed to the pond. She found Dean sitting on the fishing dock staring at the water. He didn't look up when she walked up beside him. The lid came off the bottle with a quick twist and she crouched down, proffering it. "Penny for your thoughts."

"What are you doing here, Jo?" He took the bottle, raised it to his mouth, studying her a moment before taking a long drink. It looked like he was assessing her and making some conclusion he didn't share with her.

She shrugged, sitting beside him. The pond was smooth, with not even a ripple to betray the few fish still in it. "Hey, you brought me here, remember?"

"That I did. Didn't Cas tell you this isn't a day I tend to be sociable?"

"He tried, but you know me. I'm persistent."

"That's one word you could use." He tried to hand her the bottle and she refused it.

"Nope, it's all yours."

"Thanks." He shifted position, swirling the liquid in the bottle. "I insist. You plan on staying the next few hours, and I think that is your plan, then you drink _with_ me."

She drank, but the little swallow she took garnered a derisive stare before he put his fingers beneath the bottle and nudged it up to her mouth again.

"You used to know how to drink whiskey, Jo. What happened? You know the rule: you take a good swallow, not that half-assed dainty sip. You're not at a tea party or a wine tasting. Gimme a gulp."

Which would get her smashed quickly. It'd been a long time since she'd taken drinks like he was wanting to do. She'd had a drink occasionally with Cas, or some wine when playing Pitch with Maggie, Alexis, and Emily, but she hadn't gotten deliberately drunk since she'd been in the camp. "Guess I'm out of practice."

"Well get back in it quick. It's only seven. We've got five hours to pass until midnight."

At least she'd had a big dinner that should soak up some of the alcohol and slow it going through her system. Jo settled in for a long evening.

* * *

While Cas had forgiven Melanie her slip of the tongue, he hadn't asked her to spend an afternoon or morning alone with him since. He didn't want to chance hearing Dean's name at the wrong time again. What a blow to the ego that had been! Not an experience he wanted to relive. To himself, he could admit there was a little jealousy there. After all, he was used to being first in her attention and affection. To find himself being supplanted by Dean, who didn't even _want_ her sexually, was a bit galling. And confusing. Despite the illustrations Alexis had used, he didn't really understand Dean's criteria for acceptable women. Nina over Melanie? Really? Where did the whole screwing a manipulative bitch thing start becoming fun?

He kept waiting for Jo or Alexis to say something to him further on Mel, but neither did. Whatever they thought, they kept it to themselves.

As the days swept by, he missed having Melanie there, so when Jo went off to find Dean, he found Mel and asked her to join him and Maggie. She seemed surprised he was asking and agreed with a little relieved grin. He knew Maggie wouldn't mind. She was always up for company.

The evening hours progressed in a wholly satisfactory manner and when the alarm beeped for nine-thirty, he got up, showered and dressed, leaving Maggie to do the same and make sure Melanie was awake before midnight. He didn't want to have to evict her to put Jo to bed. There was no way Dean was going to let Jo get away with not drinking. Castiel suspected he was going to have to carry Jo back to the cabin and watch her all night.

He left the cabin to do the same thing he did every year: keep a watch on Dean from ten to midnight, though this year it was Dean and Jo. He assumed Jo was handling Dean just fine, yet he'd rather be there if she needed help.

Dean's chosen place this year was the pond. The year before it had been the Impala. He'd made it clear that everyone needed to steer clear of the pond all day. Cas perched on low branches of one tree, the branches forming a surprisingly comfortable seat. From the place there he could see them on the dock and not be seen himself. They appeared to be pacing themselves surprisingly well, what bits of conversation he heard weren't slurred or rambling at all. He leaned his head back and got comfortable, feeling a little drowsy.

Maybe he'd close his eyes for just a minute.

* * *

Jo loved everyone. She was feeling very happy right now, a warm glow inside her entire body as she staggered with Dean along the path to their cabins. His arm around her kept her from falling, his hand gripping her belt in a familiar fashion, hauling her back to her feet when she nearly fell.

He led her right up the steps and into her cabin. No…wait…_his_ cabin. That was an actual door he'd opened. They hadn't gotten tangled in those stupid beads Cas liked. Jo squinted, vision whirling. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. They were stopped beside Dean's bed. The covers were rumpled, pillows piled together on one corner. Dean dragged her jacket down her arms and off, then bent, covering her mouth with his own. His tongue darted hot and quick against hers, tasting of the whiskey they'd been drinking.

He developed twelve hands in a matter of seconds, running them all along her body, mouth moving from hers to her neck, then lower, one hand dragging the shoulder of her shirt down and her bra strap with it.

"Mmm…no, Dean, don't…." Jo raised a hand, placed it on his chest, nearly losing her balance when he yanked her hips hard against him. She shoved at him, twisting her body, beginning to feel nauseated, her stomach flipping inside her belly like there was a rollercoaster ride going on in there. "Let go."

"Don't say no, Jo. Please," he slurred in her ear, releasing her hips, his hands slipping under her shirt. "Need you."

"No." She gave him a shove that was enough to extricate herself and make him sit heavily on the end of his bed. "Not gonna happen." Jo stumbled back, nearly falling again, and made her way towards the door and from the cabin, leaving him there alone. She headed in the basic direction of Cas's cabin, pausing once to throw up in the grass, which made her feel better almost instantly.

The grass was cool against her hands and she knelt there on all fours for several long minutes, half tempted to just lie down and look up at the sky until she fell asleep. Cas's wide, comfortable bed called to her though.

Jo pushed to her feet and continued towards the cabin.

* * *

The cabin was dark and empty when Melanie woke. She had a vague remembrance of Maggie asking her if she was sure she awake enough that Maggie could leave.

I must have fallen asleep again, she thought, reaching for the clock on the floor and squinting at it. It was nearly one in the morning. Where were Cas and Jo? One of them should have rousted her out before now and sent her back to her own cabin. She got up, showered and dressed, expecting to find one of them there when she stepped from the bathroom.

At one-thirty, as she was putting her shoes on, Jo came through the beads, whirling under them, smacking at them and stumbling into the cabin. She lost her balance, falling hard to her knees and laughing as though it was the most hysterically funny thing that had ever happened. She looked up, big silly grin on her face. "Mel! You're here! Where's Mags? She still here too?"

"Jo, you're drunk." She'd never seen Jo drunk before.

"I'm not drunk. I don't get drunk. I haven't been drunk in years."

"Yeah, you are. You're…intoxicated."

"I am so not intoximicated. Inticimicated. Intominicated…. Drunk." She laughed again, lying down on the rug and spreading her arms out. "Not drunk," she sang out in an obnoxious loud, grating voice.

The slurred words and excessive amusement belied that claim.

"Dean wanted me to drink whenever he did, like that time we all decided to get Cas blotto. It was an executive decision, see. He was way too uptight then. We were matching shots at first, but then we made him do four to our one," she got to her feet, carefully pushed her hair from her face, and weaved her way to the bed, "and at last look, my mom was giggling, which means, meant I mean, that she was ready to pass out and that angel was still sober. Like he had special sober powers too, along with the others. I think he ended up putting all of us to bed that night. He drank four accomplished drinkers under the table." She let out a slow breath, expression shifting to panic. "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna be sick again."

Melanie scrambled towards her, hauling her to the bathroom and managing to get her there just in time. She held Jo's hair back and stayed in the bathroom with her until the heaves finally stopped. "Let's get you to bed, okay?"

She got Jo to brush her teeth, though she had to prop her up, then wrestled her to the bed.

"I'm never drinking again," Jo announced, one hand on her forehead.

"Cas says that too." He also usually forgot that sentiment a couple days after the hangover had faded. She found the chemise, looked at Jo, and decided it'd probably be better if she slept in one of Cas's old t-shirts. Feeling a little uncomfortable about it, she searched one trunk until she found a worn, old shirt and brought it back to Jo. "Let's get you undressed and --"

"Don't look."

"Don't…what?" The comment didn't make any sense and she shook her head. "Jo --"

Jo slapped her hands onto Melanie's shoulders, shaking her head. "Don't look. Lex says she looks and now I can't change shirts if she's anywhere near here. Feels weird. Too weird. Don't like it. Don't look."

"Oh." Understanding settled in her mind and she nodded. "Okay. I won't look. Can you put this on by yourself?"

"Course I can." Jo snatched the shirt up -- it took three tries for her to actually grab the shirt -- and stared at it with her eyes narrowed. "Is this the AC/DC shirt? Because I don't want to wear that one. I want the one with…." She licked her lips. "…with that _band_ I can't think of. You know the one."

"Okay. Yeah." She took the shirt. "Tell you what: you get undressed and I'll go look for it."

"Ooh, good plan!"

Melanie stayed where she was and waited while Jo undressed, being careful not to look at her full on. When a glance revealed Jo was down to her underwear, Melanie held out the shirt. "Here you go."

Jo drew it on, the peered at it, holding it out. "That's AC/DC."

"You said you wanted that one."

"I…." She let go of the shirt. "I knew that." One hand pressed against her stomach. "Make it stop, Mel. The room's spinning."

She took care of that too, as best she could, giving Jo a big glass of water and a couple pills, then settling her in the bed with her head almost hanging over the side over a bucket.

"I'm going to go check in on Dean and then I'll be back, okay?"

Jo groaned in response and Melanie headed to Dean's cabin. She wondered where Cas was. It wasn't like him to be out this late unless it was for a mission or something like that. Where had he gone while she'd been asleep?

"Dean? Are you okay?" Melanie knocked, received no answer, and went inside the cabin, looking about cautiously. "Dean?" Dean was sprawled on his bed, his shirt and shoes off, jeans undone. It looked like he'd passed out in the middle of undressing himself. She went to him, shaking him a little until he roused. His eyes opened into slits. "Hey, sit up, okay? Let's get you in bed so you can sleep it off." It wasn't like she hadn't helped Cas before when _he_ was in a similar condition.

Dean struggled to sit, but as she leaned down to help him shift position, his hands raised, grasping her head, mouth latching on to hers. The kiss wasn't gentle. It was rough and filled with a raw need that was like nothing she'd experienced with Cas. This was an entire new level and she froze, unsure just what to do.

This was from the alcohol, she knew it was, could taste it on his tongue and smell it on his skin. He hadn't even tried to kiss her before now. It was only the alcohol, which wasn't what she wanted. She wanted him sober; wanted him to really want her and not because he was drunk.

She decided to pull away, but it was too late.

His hands moved, lowering, tugging on her blouse, ripping it, the fragile fabric parting and the buttons popping loose under the force of the hard jerk. He pulled her against him, lean fingers first on her ribs, then sliding around to her back, Melanie losing her balance. They tipped back, his mouth on hers again, and while she tried to regain her balance, doing so was impossible when his hands moved all over her. He wasn't gentle there either, gripping her hips and rear hard, hauling her up astride him, but no sooner had he gotten her in that position, than he flipped them over. His weight came down on top of her, breath hot against her ear….

He passed out, body going slack above her, leaving her stuck under his weight. No amount of shoving budged him.

She laid beneath him, disillusionment setting in the longer she was stuck there.

* * *

Cas woke in alarm, squinting at his watch. Neither Dean nor Jo were there anymore and it was after two. He'd slept in the tree for nearly four hours. He slid from his perch in the tree, stretched enough to work the kink from his back, and went in search of them. He found Jo in their cabin, put to bed all nice and neat, with a bucket on the floor by her head. Heading for Dean's cabin, he almost expected the same thing.

What he did find, however, was Melanie trapped beneath Dean. She waved a hand at him, her panic evident.

"Cas! Help! I can't move him and I have to go pee!"

Going to the bed, he yanked Dean off her. Dean didn't even make a sound, completely limp in his grasp. "What are you doing here, Melanie?" The question came out harsher than he'd intended and he dragged Dean up so his head was on the pillows. Dean muttered something, but it was unintelligible.

Melanie scrambled from the bed and hurried into the bathroom.

He took the moments she was in there to finish undressing Dean and cover him up, turning him onto his side and shoving a blanket against his back. Better safe than sorry. There was a trashcan by the table that he brought over and estimated a good place for it.

When she returned, she said, "Well, I helped Jo to bed and thought I'd check in on Dean since they were drinking. I didn't expect him to grab me, throw me on the bed, and pass out on me."

Her shirt was ruined, ripped up, the buttons mostly gone, two hanging by threads. Cas sat on the end of the bed and watched her. "What happened? Exactly?"

She pulled the edges of her blouse together, teeth grazing her lower lip. "He…he kissed me, tore my blouse open, and grabbed me. He wouldn't let go and then he just passed out."

"Did you try saying no?"

Melanie swallowed hard and shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I didn't."

Cas sighed. "You know, you are _allowed_ to say 'no'. It's an acceptable word."

"It happened in, like, thirty seconds, Cas! And he was strong, too. He just…." She was upset, but not in the way he expected, making a noise of exasperation and disappointment. "He _groped_ me. Like one of those jerks out there in the camp. I've been groped before, not by you, because you don't grope like that, but out there at the campfires sometimes. Groped. He groped me. And I liked this blouse, Cas. It's not repairable. He _ruined_ it."

With a jolt, he realized Dean had toppled himself from that pedestal Melanie had put him on in recent days and she was working herself up into a snit over it.

I don't believe I'm about to say this, he thought. "Keep in mind that alcohol changes things, Melanie. Dean's not usually like that with women unless that's what they both want."

"Oh yeah? How do you know that?" She crossed her arms.

"Because I know Dean and know him well." He stood. "Come on. Let's leave Dean to sleep it off."

It didn't take much to convince her to leave. Castiel took her to his cabin, checking on Jo, who was still in the same position she'd been in when he'd left to look in on Dean, making that odd choking sound that was her snore. She always denied snoring and usually only did it when she was exhausted.

They sat on the couch, Melanie wrapping her arms about her legs and resting her chin on her knees. When he'd stretched out in a comfortable position, she cleared her throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When Jo came in, she started telling me this story about trying to get you drunk."

"Did she?"

"She said it was like you had special sober powers along with others and…." She stared at him, eyes wide. "She called you an angel."

"Did she," he repeated, crossing his ankles and glancing over at Jo. He wasn't upset that she'd let that slip. It didn't particularly bother him for anyone to know, but Dean thought that that truth, and Cas's current lifestyle choices contrasting it, might bother the religious people in the camp, so it wasn't common knowledge. "Well, I did put all of them to bed that night."

"That's not how she meant it."

"How did she mean it?" He returned her stare with a calm one of his own.

The certainty in her eyes faded as Cas waited. He could see her puzzling out Jo's story, wondering if Jo had just been completely soused and choosing her words funny because of that. "It's silly, I guess, isn't it? An angel would hardly do some of the things you do."

"An angel wouldn't, no." But he wasn't an angel any longer. He was mortal, human.

He sent Melanie to her cabin and remained awake the rest of the night, keeping that watch over Jo he'd known would be needed.


	14. Chapter 14

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 14  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

Dean woke with the worst hangover he'd had in years, having the vague impression that there should be a woman in bed with him. He remembered kissing Jo and then kissing… someone else? The curves under his hands hadn't been Jo's, but the perfume had been the same one she now wore and the woman had had long hair. So where was she?

Raising his head a fraction, he peered at the bathroom. The door was open, no sound coming from it and the light off. His cabin was silent, blessedly dark, with no light at all to make the ache in his head turn to a jackhammer throbbing. Dean closed his eyes, his fuzzy thoughts meandering over the evening, recalling Jo with ease and her definite refusal, yet after that it was confusing. There was a woman's voice saying something about sleeping it off. Her mouth against his, body beneath his hands…. She'd made a noise of surprise. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, attempting to bring the scene into focus. The line of her body hadn't been pliant, but rather stiff and tense. Vibrant blue eyes open very wide with a hint of alarm…

Blue eyes.

There was only one woman in the camp with eyes that blue that he knew of.

Melanie.

"Oh hell no," Dean groaned. After his smug words to Jo about avoiding certain situations, he'd managed to drink himself right into one.

But what had happened? The last thing he remembered was…nothing concrete at all. No real memory of anyone aside from Jo, only dream-like impressions swirling about his mind. What had he done? He opened his eyes, trying to ignore the tiny stabs of pain any movement caused. The fact that he wasn't naked under the covers didn't bring any comfort, for he'd been known to completely change clothes while drunk with no memory of doing so. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that he'd showered and put on briefs after she'd gone.

He groaned again and let his eyes slip shut. When he opened them again, the cabin was much lighter and Cas was there. He stood beside the bed staring down at Dean, a little smirk that looked heinous and evil upon his lips.

"What did I say about watching me sleep," Dean snapped. Speaking made his head hurt more and he winced.

"Not to do it," Cas replied with an unrepentant quirk of a brow. "But I'm not watching you sleep. I'm watching you wake up." He held out a nearly empty bottle of Wild Turkey, twisting the cap off. "Hair of the dog?"

The thought of ingesting more alcohol made his stomach turn and he swallowed hard, upper lip curling. "Uh-uh."

"Quite some night you had." He capped the bottle, set it down, and moved about the room, tossing all the curtains open.

Dean sucked in a breath. "Damn it, Cas, shut the damn curtains and quit shouting!" With one hand, he groped for the covers, dragging them up over his head, only to have Cas tug them away, ignoring that directive. "I swear Lucifer's giving me a lobotomy right this second and you are _not_ helping."

"Wakey, wakey, hands off --"

"Do not finish that sentence," he held up a finger, "or you'll be in as much pain as I am."

Castiel chuckled. "Relax. _Jo's_ in worse shape than you, though Melanie managed to get some water and pills down her before she passed out. Of course they came back up a couple hours later when she started puking. I spent all night holding her hair back from her face. Hard to imagine a woman her size holding that much --"

Dean scrambled from the bed and into the bathroom. He thought he heard Cas laughing again over the sound of his own retching. This was payback, wasn't it? He recalled being nearly this obnoxious himself the first time Cas had had the joy of a hangover. And the next time, and the time after that…. He went back out, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. "Where's Melanie?"

"I don't know." Cas shrugged. "I haven't seen her in hours. Why?" He turned, hands resting on his hips. "Was she…_here_ last night?" The question had a leading edge to it, as though he already knew the answer and was curious as to what Dean would say. Cas's answer could mean he'd last seen her anytime from the previous night to this morning.

"How about you tell me? Was she?" He returned to bed, snatching the covers close and lying back. The sunlight still caused severe pain, but he knew if he closed the curtains, Cas would be enough of an ass to open them again.

"Don't you remember? That'd break her heart, you know. If she _had_ been here and in a compromising position, that is. That you didn't even remember her being here?" His brows rose and he clucked his tongue. "Quite a situation."

"Situation? What situation?"

Cas sank onto the couch, arms laying along the back of it. "Tell you what: I'll confirm that she and Jo were both here last night."

"I remember Jo being here." He closed his eyes. "Please tell me you're not going to be sadistic and make me play twenty questions when my head is about to explode."

"It's a distinct possibility. Payback is such a bitch sometimes."

"Remember this the next time you get blitzed, Cas."

Another chuckle. "Dean, I'm blitzed most of the time anymore."

Good point. "So tell me about Melanie. Is she okay?"

"Should she not be," Cas countered, his tone giving Dean the sudden suspicion that Cas wasn't about to tell him anything about her. He was going to make Dean ask questions and never actually tell him anything.

An added ache began to grow between his eyes, something very much like a tension headache. "Cas, I'm so not in the mood for this."

"Mood for what? We're having a nice conversation here."

"You're being sadistic."

He scoffed at that. "I am not, but you're going to want to have a good chat with Melanie later on today. Today would be best. Don't put it off."

Opening his eyes, Dean raised his head and stared at him, trying to get a sense of what _that_ comment meant. "Did I do something stupid?"

"Define 'stupid'." Cas crossed his ankles.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

He was being a dick and felt fully justified in indulging himself in that behavior. Why? Three reasons.

One: Jo. He'd been afraid, right around five a.m., that Jo wasn't going to recover, that she had alcohol poisoning and was going to die because Dean had insisted she match him drink for drink. Dean should have known better. Jo no longer drank like she used to. Her tolerance was much lower than the last time the two had done shots together.

The recklessness of that pissed him off. It was one thing for Dean to be reckless with his own life, but another entirely to be careless with someone else's, especially when that someone was Jo.

Jo wasn't going to be off the hook on that one either, though he planned to wait until she wasn't hungover. He'd still like to have sex with her in the near future and telling her while she was hungover that her choice to agree to Dean's recklessness was stupid would make the bed a might chilly at night.

Two: Melanie, in a roundabout way really. Was it sad that two out of three of his reasons were women?

While she shouldn't have pranced into Dean's cabin like she had, and would also get some words from Cas on that later, the fact remained that Mr. 'High and Mighty, I Don't Want Her That Way' had taken the opportunity to do some groping after claiming he wouldn't ever behave in such a way with her.

Yeah, Cas knew the liquor had contributed and likely been the sole reason for it, but he wanted Dean to be very aware of that whole saying and doing thing. He couldn't say one thing and do another even if he was blotto when he did it. He'd said he wouldn't, had done a little, and was going to have to deal with the consequences of that.

Was it wrong to want to rag him over it?

Probably, but he was going to do it anyway.

Sometimes childish human behavior could be quite gratifying.

Three: Pure payback. When Dean hadn't been drinking enough to have a hangover, he was often insufferable to friends who had, namely to Cas. He still recalled Dean's cheerful and innocent-toned suggestion that drinking a little soda might help his throat after a night of throwing up, something about the bubbles soothing. Castiel had been stupid and trusting enough to actually believe him until the first painful swallow had gone down. Then, there'd been such incidents as the alarm clock set for dawn when he'd only gotten to bed at four and the greasy, fried breakfast Dean had brought into Cas's room to eat. The list could go on.

It was easier to hide a hangover here, but Dean still sometimes caught him with one.

So, no, he had no problem with being a sadistic dick this morning.

* * *

She slept all morning and when she did wake up, Melanie alternated between thinking about Dean and thinking about Cas. She wondered what Dean thought of her now and if Jo's words were true about Cas. Her thoughts twisted about them even more when Cas chewed her out very nicely for having gone to look in on Dean in the first place.

He made good points she hadn't thought of. Like how it was stupid to go into a man's cabin like that alone even if it was Dean and even if he was drunk. Drunken men were sometimes amorous and Melanie wasn't physically strong enough to extricate herself from a situation if said drunken amorous man became insistent. It could have turned extremely bad and Cas made it clear he could have walked in on a different scene had one little thing gone a different way.

And Castiel was so pleasant about it, his voice calm and low, as though they were discussing the weather.

Melanie sat beside him on her bed, tuning out the last rehash of those points -- he was making them again for emphasis -- and studying him. Physically, he was the same as she'd always known him: dark hair that didn't look like he'd combed it half the time, a rakish perpetual five o'clock shadow that was almost a beard but not quite grown enough to count in her opinion, and lean muscled body.

If what Jo had said was true and not drunken ramblings, then what did that mean about Cas now? Was he still an angel then? If so, then how did that fit in with what she knew an angel was supposed to be like?

"Melanie?" His fingers snapped right in front of her face several times.

She blinked, jerking back a little. "Yeah?"

He was doing that piercing stare thing again, the one so deep and concentrated that she felt naked beneath it. "Something else on your mind?"

"No. I'm listening." She hadn't been at the last part, but he'd only been repeating what he'd already said about Dean and how stupid she'd been.

He cocked his head to one side. "Nothing you want to discuss?"

"Uh-uh."

Still staring at her, he waited with brows raised, then nodded. "Okay. Then I'll be going." Leaning over, he gave her a gentle, soft kiss at the corner of her mouth.

Her thoughts on him kept returning to that angel 'what-if' as the hours passed. Melanie found it far more distressing that she may have been having sex with an angel than she found Dean's drunken groping the previous night and the bursting of her huge crush bubble on him. Her crush was nothing compared to the other. Her crush was a silly little girly thing. Cas, though? It was a serious thing, a topic with some weight to it that had the potential to really freak her out if she kept thinking about it.

And she couldn't stop thinking about it.

* * *

Jo woke to Castiel against her, an arm wrapped about her. He groaned when she tried to get up, a sound that caused pinpricks of agony to lance her skull, and tightened his arm around her. The curtains were all closed, but enough light was filtering through them that she knew it was midday.

"Don't go, Jo," he whispered. "I just got comfortable. I was up all night looking in on you and Dean, I spent this morning with Dean, and then Melanie needed some attention before Dean found her."

"But I'm hungry. I need sustenance." She was hungry too, her stomach growling right then to punctuate that claim. "What happened with Mel?"

"You'll just puke it up in an hour because you're still drunk. Wouldn't it be easier not to eat at all?" His hand grasped the covers, adjusting them, then returning to her. "Don't worry about Mel. I handled it."

Maybe he was right and maybe he wasn't. It didn't change the fact that she was hungry now. "I'm not still drunk. What happened?"

"You're slurring your words, honey. That means you're still soused. Go back to sleep. We'll sleep here together all afternoon and get up for dinner." He shifted position a little behind her. "And it was nothing with Melanie. Just a slight incident between her and…." He yawned, body shuddering against her. "It was easily taken care of."

"I need a shower." It registered in slow degrees that he'd called her 'honey'. He'd never done that before. "Her and who?"

He released her and rolled onto his back. "You got me there. You do need a shower." One hand made a languid gesture towards the bathroom. "Bathe."

It was quickly apparent that he was right in her still being drunk from the night before. She was in that peculiar intoxicated state that sometimes happened after being horrendously smashed where it sort of felt like she'd sobered up to a hangover state. She was no longer giggly or happy, though her head did hurt, and she was hungry. Experience told her that she had enough time to shower and bolt down a few crackers if she could find any in the cabin before she started feeling drunk again and needed to sleep the rest of it off.

When she emerged from the shower, she found Castiel had changed the pillowcase on her pillow and had a paper plate with a couple thick slices of dry bread in his hands. Jo snatched them up, devouring them with the towel still wrapped around her and her hair wet. "Mmm. I love you," she told him. "Have I said that yet today?"

"You have not." Pulling her to him with gentle hands, he ran a comb through her hair and braided it. "Love you, too."

"Melanie?" Jo polished off the bread. Her stomach still rumbled, but at least it wasn't as loud. "You mentioned her."

"What about her?"

"What happened? What incident? What did I miss?"

Cas tugged the towel loose. "Later. Come back to bed."

No amount of talking would sway him and Jo settled back into bed with him, falling asleep with her head on his chest.

* * *

Twenty questions had produced nothing but annoyance on Dean's part, so he had to go straight to Melanie to find out what, if anything, had happened. Sometimes Dean missed the days of heading out of town to avoid such discussions. He'd rather just ignore whatever it was, but since Cas had pretty much told him he'd been stupid and needed to talk to Melanie, he thought he might bow to Cas's wisdom on her -- sort of like Cas accepting some of Dean's wisdom on Jo, like: don't play poker with her, she wins every hand.

This brought back the very reason his arrangement with Nina worked out so well. All the talking about your feelings crap involved with nice young women like Melanie. How did Cas do it all the time?

Be like Cas, he told himself. Talk to her in that quiet, calm way he uses for things with women. Think 'understanding' and not about how much you really wish you didn't have to do this at all.

The realization that he was now looking to Cas for how to handle a woman almost made him snicker at the irony.

He fortified himself with enough painkiller to fell an elephant and went in search of her, finding her in supplies, working the late afternoon shift. "Melanie."

"Hi." She glanced up from her clipboard, cheeks a little flushed. Her tone wasn't cold or angry, nor was it overly warm. It could mean anything. Maybe something had happened between them and she was nervous. Or maybe she was simply distracted by the inventory.

Cas said she'd been there, but in what context? There were a lot of variables he didn't know. Why had she been there? Had he grabbed her outside and dragged her in like a caveman? Or coaxed her? He knew she was very susceptible to being coaxed with soft words and a gentle tone. Or had she been there for another reason entirely? Too many things he didn't know.

Maybe drinking that much Wild Turkey in one sitting hadn't been such a good idea no matter what day it had been.

"How's the count coming," he asked. The shelves weren't as full as they'd been in the past. He thought that in another couple years, they were going to have to rely on what they could grow and hunt for as pickings became slim on the shelves of the abandoned stores. Still, there were less people around due to Croatoan, so maybe it'd balance out somehow?

She frowned, making a tick on the paper. "About like usual." Tipping her head back, she counted cans, squinting and using her pencil to point at each one, then made another notation. Shelf completed, she tapped the pencil on the papers. "Do you want something? Because I need to count those shelves next…."

"And I'm in the way," he finished for her, taking a step back from the shelves. "Take a break with me." He expected her to shrug and agree, because that's what she'd done a couple times before. This time she didn't, which made him blink in surprise. This time, Melanie showed a bit of backbone.

"I just got started." Her lips pressed together into a thin line, the tiniest bit of irritation showing through. Aside from that first glance, she hadn't looked at him again. "I can't just walk away from my job before I've even done any real work. It's irresponsible."

"I'm sure Chuck won't mind." There wasn't anybody but the three of them in there anyway.

"I mind."

"It's not a request. Take a break with me."

She closed her eyes and sighed, managing to convey how very put upon the order made her feel. Her eyes snapped open, rolling a little, annoyance clear. "Fine." Her fingers tightened on the clipboard.

Yup, he decided, something had happened. All he had to do was figure out what. Stretching out a hand, he plucked the clipboard and pencil from her, tugging when she didn't release them immediately, setting them on the shelf and calling out, "Chuck? Melanie's stepping outside with me a minute."

"Okay," was the amiable reply.

He led her out from the cabin a ways, to one of the picnic tables, where she sat on one side and he leaned against the table. "You came to my cabin last night --"

She crossed her arms, tongue slipping out to wet her lips, gaze looking everywhere but at him. "I never should have gone in. I know that, okay? Cas already talked to me about it."

"But you did. So --"

"I was only trying to help. Jo was passed out and I thought maybe you needed help, too, and then…." She shook her head, heaving another sigh. "I _wasn't_ throwing myself at you, Dean, I swear. I wasn't thinking anything like that. Cas said it was stupid of me to just go in like that and that I was damn lucky you were too drunk to do anything. He says it could have been really bad and that I shouldn't ever do that again except with him because I already know how he'll probably react."

He sat as well, crossing his arms on the table edge. "Right." She was actually making this easy, doing all the talking. Dean started to relax.

Her gaze raised, touched his for a second and moved on again, to study the area around them. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again." Melanie bit her lower lip, teeth grazing it. "I've learned my lesson."

"Well…as long as you're promising…."

"I do, I really do. I promise. It won't happen again, I mean it." She started to get up, then stopped, sitting back down. "Can…can I talk to you a minute? It's about Cas."

"About Cas? Sure." The relief from dodging the talking feelings bullet with her filled him and he smiled. "Shoot."

"Well…you knew him before, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, I knew Cas then. I've known him for a few years now."

"Castiel's an unusual name."

"It is," he agreed, wondering where she was taking this line of conversation. Hadn't Cas already told her everything she'd ever wanted to know about him? All she had to do was ask him. Cas seemed pretty open to any of them about most anything. So why wasn't she asking Cas whatever it was she was building up to asking?

"I can't think of where it might have originated, like what country."

"It's a very old, ancient name I've heard." As in thousands of years and heaven as the country, if heaven could be considered a country. "Is that what you wanted to talk about? His name?"

"No. It's probably a silly question…." She drew invisible circles on the table with one finger.

"There are no silly questions. Lay it on me. There's very little about Castiel that I don't know by now. I'm like an authority on him."

Her glance flicked up and Melanie stared at him, head tilting a fraction to one side. He had the impression that she was almost afraid to ask her question, but then she drew in a sharp breath, leaning across the table. "Is he a fallen angel?"

All levity left him. How was he supposed to answer that? And how was it, that out of all the people in the camp, it was _Melanie_ asking?


	15. Chapter 15

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 15  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

Dean took a deep breath. "Where did you hear that," he asked her.

"It was something Jo said last night."

"What was it Jo said?" After she'd explained, he nodded. "I see. Did you ask Cas about it?"

She splayed her hands on the table. "I tried, but he didn't really answer me. He didn't deny it, but he didn't confirm it either. I mean, I felt a little silly asking if he was an angel out loud, even though I know they exist, because…come on. Cas? An angel? With the way he acts and the things he does? I've heard him cuss a blue streak on occasion."

"And?"

"I started thinking earlier and, like, okay, I know angels are real, along with all sorts of scary stuff. It's a fact, but aren't angels supposed to be righteous and holy and pure and…and," she tapped the tabletop, "…not like _Cas_. That's why I ask if he's a _fallen_ angel, because I don't think a full on holy angel would, um, have orgies. It doesn't reason out. A fallen angel though, that would make much more sense."

He was a little stunned that it was Melanie asking him this. The last person he'd expected. He'd thought perhaps Noah would be asking or Ashley, but...maybe it wasn't so unexpected. After all, she'd been spending a lot of time with Cas since that very first day they'd found her. Was it really surprising?

"Dean?"

He didn't think he needed to lie to her or put her off. He knew she liked Cas, cared about him, and didn't want to hurt him. Dean suspected she'd be very careful with the information and who she mentioned it to. Reaching out, he laid his hands over the tops of hers, thumbs rubbing her wrists in slow swoops, ready to hold her there to finish this conversation if necessary. For a second he wondered why Cas hadn't told her, but it had likely been very late when she'd asked and the topic was not one that should be covered in a quick sentence or two. There was a bit of explanation involved. Castiel probably just hadn't gotten to talking to her about it yet today. Or he was waiting for another day to fully discuss it with her.

Here's hoping Cas was serious about not caring if anyone knows, he thought, and leaned forward like she was, lowering his voice. "He'd call himself fallen, yes, but by my definition these days he's just a guy who got the short end of the stick."

There was elation that she was right in her eyes, followed seconds later by guilt and fear. She was thinking that over, hands shifting. "Oh no. That means that I --"

"Melanie, listen to me," he hurried to stop whatever she was going to say, shaking his head. "There is no reason to feel any differently about him. He's very much the Cas you met last year when we found you. Nothing about him has changed since you've known him."

"This is bad," she whispered. "Angels are holy things."

"No, no it's not bad." Dean let his attention wander about them, satisfied they were still the only ones in the immediate vicinity and their conversation remained private. "You need to trust me on that."

"I had sex with an angel. An _angel_, Dean. That's not good."

"Melanie, stop."

"That's so not good. It's…it's like --"

"_Stop_." He squeezed her wrists tight enough that she gasped and winced. He hated to do it, but he needed to get her full attention and fast. "Listen to me. Now, are you listening? Are you? Because I'm going to tell you something very few people know."

She gulped, hands curling into fists under his. "I'll try. I'll listen. I will."

"This is privileged information."

She gave a shaky nodded. "Okay."

"He was doing his job, sort of like a soldier stationed away from home, and saw his superiors doing things that were wrong and not…righteous. They were supposed to be the good guys, only they weren't really that good after all. It was sometimes hard to tell them from the demons the way they behaved. Sneaky, underhanded, just plain mean. Castiel though, he was a stand-up, good angel through and through. He was the one to have at your back. Saved my ass more than a few times and not just with the angel powers he had. Cas is smart, Melanie. He figures things out, or he did then."

"Of course he's smart. He's like the smartest guy I know."

The smell of dinner cooking wafted across the clearing. Instead of making him hungry, all it did was make him gag a little. At least he didn't have much of a headache anymore and the sun was behind him so it wasn't causing shards of pain in his eyes whenever he looked around. Dean swallowed the urge to retch and waited for his stomach to settle back down.

"He ended up having to make the decision to rebel against _them_, to do good things instead of the bad things they wanted from him and out of spite, they cut him off from the heavenly powers tap. By his definition, that strength of will and use of free will he displayed right there made him fall even though he was _right_ to make that choice. He made a righteous decision based on what he'd seen and it bit him on the ass. The powers went away and when they were gone, he was human."

Her lower lip trembled and Dean released one wrist to caress her cheek in a comforting gesture. Her skin was smooth and cool.

"It's okay. I fully understand the need to indulge in a little freak-out about it. It's a lot to take in." He moved his hand back to her wrist. "Take a couple deep breaths and relax."

She took the breaths, lips parting. Her blouse slipped down on one shoulder.

"Good girl. Keep breathing." He continued to caress her wrists with his thumbs. "Now, by the time we picked you up, all his powers were gone and he'd been human for a long time."

"How long?"

"About a year."

"That's not long."

"Considering that a week in a human body is long to him, a year is an eternity. Two years, two eternities. It's agony to him to have to live as a human." He felt her tug against his grasp, but wasn't quite ready to release her yet. The cool breeze made her hair fly about her face, bringing more scents from the dining hall.

"He really was an angel? It wasn't Jo drunk making up stories?"

"He really was," Dean confirmed. "However, he's been a man as long as you've known him. You see, there's no reason to feel weird around him. He's a man now, and a good one. That's all. Got it? There's no angel left anymore."

Her brow furrowed in a puzzled expression. "Why didn't he just say so last night? He could have."

"You'll have to ask him that." He watched her contemplate that for long moments, loosening his grip slightly. Behind her, he saw Alexis and Maggie jogging on the path, laughing together, not even noticing Dean and Melanie as they passed.

"Does anyone else know? I mean besides you, Jo, and now me?"

"Chuck." And Bobby had known. Ellen, too.

Her surprise was evident in the way she shrugged her brows. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. Chuck knew from the beginning, probably even before I did." Giving her wrists a final squeeze, he released her. "You gonna handle this okay?"

"Can I talk to Cas about it?"

"Depends on what part of it you want to discuss. The part about you knowing would be fine, sure, but I'd avoid an in-depth discussion about what angel life was like. It's a touchy subject for him since he lost all of it. Hurts him, you know? It hurts him a lot."

"He lost his identity."

"Pretty much."

"He wasn't a man, but now he is." She licked her lips, touched his hands hesitantly with her fingertips. "Are _you_ a man?"

That'd be an odd question if they hadn't just been discussing Castiel's angel past. "Yes, I'm a man. Never been a cloud hopper." Never planned to.

Save that weak moment when he'd screamed himself hoarse trying to accept Michael and the son of a bitch had ignored him. He remembered falling to his knees, screaming and crying, desperate to be Michael's vessel just to save the world; the sense of utter despair once he realized Michael wasn't listening and that the world was doomed to destruction.

Selfish dicks.

Melanie frowned again. "Oh." The word was drawn out, disappointment heavy in it.

"Oh?" Surely she hadn't been thinking that he'd been one too? "What's that mean, Melanie?"

"Nothing. Never mind." When she looked at him, he didn't see any evidence of that crush she'd had on him, none of those things he's seen as recently as a couple days earlier. No curiosity, no flirtatious flickering of her lashes, no open invitation reflected there. What he saw there was a far away expression, as though she was miles away in her head. "I'll avoid talking to him about it. I like Cas." Her lips curved in a slow grin. "I do. I really like him. I don't want to hurt him. I did that once already and absolutely hated how I felt after and how _he_ felt."

Dean got the distinct impression he'd ceased to exist for her as a sex symbol in the space of only a few minutes and all because he hadn't been an angel at any point in his life. "Okay." Weird. "How about you and me? We okay?"

"Yeah, sure." She rested her chin on her hands.

Things really did feel okay right then. Whatever had happened between them that he didn't remember was already gone from her mind. Amazing. Had he ever been that resilient? "Good. That's…that's great, Melanie. Why don't you go back in to work, then?"

"Okay." Melanie got up and, after taking two steps from the table, she came back, bending and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for telling me the truth, Dean."

He returned to his cabin then, considering having a nice long nap before dinner in hopes of the last vestiges of the hangover disappearing. To his surprise, he found Nina waiting. It wasn't their regular day, yet there she was, sprawled on his bed in a seductive pose -- her usual one.

"Well, hello there. Fancy meeting you here," she purred. "Come here often?"

Dean glanced behind him, then decided why not? He shut the door.

* * *

Jo hated that she was responsible for outing Castiel to Melanie. Maybe she hadn't spilled the entire story, but her drunken mention had been enough to get Mel asking questions. While Jo and Cas had been sleeping that day, Melanie had asked Dean about Cas and Dean had actually answered.

Castiel wasn't concerned by it. Either that or he was putting on a good show of not being concerned, claiming he'd never tried to hide what he'd been. He simply hadn't volunteered the information.

She expected fall-out; for Melanie to talk to Alexis and it to snowball until the entire camp knew about Castiel's heavenly origins. There were an infinite number of ways people could treat him differently once they knew and Jo tried to prepare herself for the worst. She imagined the few overly religious people claiming he was in league with Lucifer and demanding that Dean oust him from camp. After that scenario, Jo imagined that there'd be some wing fetish freaks who'd come calling, asking if he still had his wings and could they touch them. No matter that he'd run around without his shirt on occasion and there were obviously no wings anywhere. He _did_ point out then that the wings had been invisible to the human eye except under certain conditions, but Jo didn't see any reason to tell any of the freaks that should they even pop out of the woodwork. And finally, she thought about the inevitable whispers and stares.

Castiel listened to all of Jo's concerns and held her as she spoke, seeming more concerned that he work her clothes from her than in the potential consequences of Melanie knowing the truth. He undid her jeans and evaded her hands when she tried to stop him.

"While I understand you're worried, Jo, you don't have to be."

"Cas, stop. This is serious. We need to talk about it."

"You want to talk too much sometimes," he complained, pulling his hands away and sitting up. "She's not going to tell anyone."

"Why not?"

The way his lips twisted made her insides go all quivery. "Will you just trust me?" Straddling her, he leaned down, lips treading a slow path across her chest, nibbling after each word. "There is no way she's going to run around telling anyone."

He managed to distract her then and keep her that way the entire afternoon.

She waited and waited for that fall-out and when it never came, she decided that maybe, just maybe, Melanie had begun to really mature. It was a mature decision to keep quiet about something like that.

Too bad she discovered she was wrong about the maturity thing.

On Tuesdays, Jo spent most of the morning in the laundry area doing laundry. She'd wash her clothes, Cas's, and for anyone else who dropped it off when she was there. Sometimes she washed the sheets, too, but Maggie usually did that on Monday and Friday. As Jo fed clothes into the washers, she checked pockets and in the back pocket of one of Cas's pairs of jeans, she found a folded drawing.

It was in Melanie's unique style, a gorgeous rendering of Cas lying on a bed sleeping. One arm was above his head, the other at his side, elbow bent and hand on his stomach. Beneath him was the suggestion of wings, though if Jo looked at it one way, it seemed like it was just the way the sheet had bunched. As usual, the detail was fantastic.

She took one long look and fought the urge to bang her forehead against the wall beside her.

Melanie had transferred her affections from Dean back to Castiel.

And here Jo had thought it was maturity peeking through when it was actually plain old lust. If Melanie made Cas uncomfortable, he wouldn't invite her over, and if she thought telling someone would make him uncomfortable…then so on and so forth. Jo was starting to suspect that Melanie had a thing for bad boys, and with her knowing the truth about Cas, he likely now qualified for the baddest boy in camp, usurping Dean from that spot.

Jo expressed her opinion to Cas later that day when she gave him the drawing back.

His smirk had a definite naughty twist to it. "Now that you mention it, she does like a man to misbehave and you must admit Jo, I misbehave in quite the satisfactory manner when I choose."

He certainly did, proving to her right then how well he misbehaved.

As the days went by and slid into weeks, it was clear that Melanie really had switched affections. She was back in Cas's company most days, as though there'd never been any trouble at all in any way.

Jo quit trying to maneuver Melanie into maturity. It just wasn't going to happen. Every supposedly mature decision she made ended up relating to men. The ultimate acceptance of her weapons training? Because Dean approved and not because Jo had laid down the law. The keeping of Cas's past a secret? Because it made her hot to think of him as the supreme bad boy.

Every last damn decision.

If there was any behavior that drove Jo crazy, it was that one, the whole desire to have a man's approval. She reminded herself that it likely had to do with Melanie's upbringing and background, but that didn't mean she didn't find it irksome.

So she quit trying and let it go on. Dean and Castiel liked it that way. Cas liked having his number one groupie back in place and Dean liked being that authoritative father figure. Sometimes Jo wondered if he even knew that's what he was doing. They liked Melanie right where she was and so did Melanie.

* * *

Humiliating.

Castiel gritted his teeth and fought back tears with little success. He refused to look down at his foot, which had an ice pack covering it. Nor did he look at Jo. She kept asking what had happened, her voice grating the longer she pestered him until he snapped at her to go away and leave him alone. The stricken look in her eyes, though quickly replaced by stubborn anger, made him feel even worse than he already did.

This incident was one more humiliating example of human frailty. If he was an angel he wouldn't have this problem. If he was an angel, it'd be healed by now, but he wasn't an angel. He was another stupidly weak, hopeless human. A desperate, pathetic, miserable, wretched, useless, frail, inadequate _failure_. He might feel better about the injury if he'd even been doing anything spectacular or particularly daring to get it, like rescuing a small child from Croats or something. Then maybe he could take the physical injury with some kind of dignity. _Then_, maybe. But to be injured from an everyday shifting of supplies from the truck to the cabin? Then to be carried into his own cabin by Dean and Jim like he was an invalid incapable of movement?

It was beside the point that he couldn't put his weight on his foot and just glancing at it seemed to make the excruciating pain increase. Removing his boot had been agony.

Castiel gripped the sheets beneath him in his hands.

Utterly, totally, so very completely humiliating.

And he'd known it was bad by how Dean made not one tasteless, awkward joke that fell flat, ordering Jim to find an icepack and insisting in a low, calm voice that it didn't look too bad. Cas snorted at that. Not too bad, his ass. He'd seen Dean's expression and the alarmed glance he'd exchanged with Jo. It was bad and Cas was just a damn weak, pathetic human.

Alan arrived after what felt an eternity, poking and prodding and giving orders to Jo and Maggie as to how to care for the injury.

A broken foot. How…wonderful.

Castiel snorted and when he felt himself sliding deeper and deeper into depression about his circumstances over the next days, he didn't try to pull himself out of it. He didn't care if he laid around staring at the ceiling or if he wallowed in the spectacular insignificance of being human. He'd been so much more once and he never would be again. Ever.

He didn't feel better when Alan gave him crutches to get him mobile, nor did he feel better when he could maneuver himself fairly well about the camp. Why should he feel better about it? He still needed someone to help him. Granted, he had Maggie, sometimes Melanie, and Jo -- when she wasn't occupied elsewhere. Some days he suspected she fabricated jobs she had to do just to get away from him. Some days he wouldn't blame her if she did. Cas knew he was being difficult, but he just couldn't care. He hated having to wait for someone to help him get a tray of food. He hated not being able to do anything without crutches. And he hated that he was going to have to relearn how to walk because of it.

With a month down, he couldn't seem to stop himself from snapping at Jo whenever she tried to help him with something. The worst part was when he made her cry and realized right then that he was doing exactly what Dean had done with her: provoking her into arguments, one right after the other. It hit him between the eyes with the force of a hammer strike and he got up, balancing on the crutches. "Jo…I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just feel so helpless and I don't like feeling this way --"

"You think anyone does?" Wiping her eyes, she left the couch and reached for the backpack she used on the rare occasion she went on a raid. "Screw this." She jabbed a finger at him. "Screw you, Cas. Screw _you_. I don't have to sleep here. I've got my own cabin to go to, in case you've forgotten. And while it's small, it's got a bed and it's nice and quiet." She began to pack, going through the clean laundry basket and pulling out her clothes, shoving them into the backpack, stuffing it full.

The sight made his heart ache. She was leaving? No, no she couldn't.

"I said I was sorry. What more do you want? Tell me." He hobbled over to block the doorway because he knew she wouldn't shove him out of the way, not when he was on crutches. It was a dirty tactic to get her to stay. Cas was aware of that and employed it anyway. "Jo, please, don't go. I don't want you to."

"You want to know what I want, Cas?" She struggled to close the backpack and finally tossed it down onto the floor. "Do you really want to know what I want? I want the pity party to stop. You broke a foot. Boo-hoo, poor you. Could have been your leg. Or you could have cracked open your thick skull. Maybe even snapped your neck. Geez, you're acting like some teenaged drama queen, like you're the first person to ever break a bone."

"Well, I am the first angel to that has to wait for it to heal at a human pace."

She shook her head. "_Former_ angel. You're not one anymore. You're human now and humans break bones. Even I've had a broken bone before. I was five and fell out of a tree. Broke my left arm and wrist and got a spanking on top of it later because I'd also worn the fancy expensive Easter dress my mom had bought to do it. She was a little pissed. My point is, it happens."

He wanted to go to her, to reach out and touch her arms, coaxing, apologizing, kissing her, but he couldn't. The crutches got in the way. "I'm sorry. I can't say it enough. I'm sorry. I've been an ass."

"Understatement."

He stared at her, saw the slight, almost imperceptible shifting of her shoulders that indicated she was weakening in that determination to leave. Castiel studied her, waited until her shoulders slumped a bit more and made a wholly calculated move to sway her.

* * *

He'd broken a foot and wouldn't tell Jo how, an indication that he thought the cause was humiliating. Physical injuries seemed to irritate him the most, leaving Cas moody and morose, unpleasant for days. For the week after the injury, he was not the Castiel she'd come to know, preferring to answer anything she said in monosyllables or grunts, and refusing anything close to affection from anyone.

Desperate to know what had happened, Jo went to Dean.

"We were unloading the truck and one heavy crate slipped, overbalanced, and came right down. It could have been me, Jim, or Yeager just as easily as Cas. Why? Didn't he tell you what happened?"

Jo declined to answer.

Castiel was a bad patient, surly and ill-humored, making it clear that he hated every bit of his forced inactivity and the necessary physical therapy exercises to get him walking again. He argued with anyone who'd take the bait, behaving more like Dean had when Jo had first arrived in the camp. Aside from Jo, the only other woman to sit with him was Maggie. Alexis and Amanda both refused to put up with him in that mood and Jo refused to let Melanie near him for fear one glare would put her in tears.

Jo took his bad moods as long as she could and then it got to be too much. She couldn't take it anymore and realized there was no reason she had to. Once it was obvious she was going to actually walk out that door, or through the open doorway rather, he quickly shifted mostly back into the Cas she'd grown to love.

He stood in front of the doorway, pleading. Jo could see that he didn't want to; didn't want to have to beg her to stay, his discomfort high and growing more so by the second. When she hesitated, he played the lost little boy card, giving her that vulnerable expression that was at present entirely calculated. She knew very well it was, that he was trying to manipulate her, either consciously or no. He hadn't come far enough off the pity party sulks yet to show her the real vulnerability inside him.

But he knew she was serious. She'd leave. It made him stop and think about what he was doing, how he'd been behaving.

"If I stay, you can't keep snapping at me like that. I don't have to put up with it and I won't. I already lived that life with Dean. Remember that?" She noticed a guilty shifting in his eyes and nodded. "I see you do remember. Well, I won't do it again no matter how much I love you. It's not worth it. Shape up, Cas, or I'm shipping out. You're being stupid. No sugar coating. What I'm trying to do is help you recover faster, but you'd rather wallow in the fact that you got injured in the first place. It's stupid."

He was at a disadvantage when he couldn't simply reach out and touch her. Cas knew it and Jo thought it was a contributing factor to his feelings of helplessness. He was used to using touch to get his way, having grown dependant upon it: a gentle caress on the cheek, a tender kiss on the temple, or something far more seductive and blatant.

"I know." A dull flush spread across his cheekbones. "There are only so many times I can say I'm sorry before it begins to sound trite and insincere and --"

"Let me make this very easy for you. You yell at me like that again," she pointed at the doorway, "I go out that door and I don't come back. It'll hurt me to do it, but I will because the way you're making me feel these days is not worth staying for. Been there, done that, and hated myself for months after the fact because I put up with it for so long. I'll leave you, Castiel. Do you want that?"

"You know I don't. I want you here."

It was better between them after that. He made a conscious effort to be the way he'd been before the accident.

But he wasn't the same. She saw it in his eyes and wondered what had caused that change.

When he was walking again, he informed Dean that he wasn't going out on missions or for any other reason unless Dean specifically wanted him to. He was done, over, unwilling to put himself out there in the field. He threw himself further into that decadence he'd been flirting with, immersing himself.

Castiel began to slip away from her and Jo didn't think there was anything she could do about it.


	16. Chapter 16

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 16  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

Dean watched Castiel and Jo and shook his head with every awkward, difficult interaction between the two. Cas was losing her. What the hell was going on with them? Sure, Cas had been difficult when his foot was healing, but could anyone blame him for that? Broken bones sucked.

He approached Cas and sat across from him at the picnic table. Cas was watching Jo and a few others play a game of volleyball. What would be the best way to approach this? "What are you doing, man? What is going on in your mind, huh? You're going to lose her. You're going to lose Jo."

Cas shot a glance at him, then returned his attention to Jo. His gaze was haunted, that of a man who knows he's screwed up pretty badly. It was an expression Dean had seen in his own eyes many times. Most days he avoided a mirror because of that expression.

"You told me you were going to hold on to her."

"She's going to leave anyway." His shoulders shifted in a tiny, listless shrug. "Doesn't matter what I do. She's already halfway out the door."

Dean studied him and hated what he saw. Cas was giving up on that life with Jo. He was letting himself sink into his vices and pull further from her. "So you two have one big blow-out, shoot 'em up fight and you throw in the towel? Geez, Cas, Jo and I had hundreds of those before we even considered calling it quits. At least we _tried_ to work through things. You? You're not even trying. You're all set to let her go."

"It's hard."

In another man, his tone would be considered whining. With Cas, it was…. Dean crossed his arms and leaned against the table edge. No, it was whining any way he tried to look at it. Was it possible Cas hadn't figured that out by now? It was hard work to get and keep a good woman, particularly one like Jo. It was hard to have a relationship, easy to screw around, and Cas had taken screwing around to a new level recently. He'd become an expert in screwing around. "Relationships take work, especially the ones that are worth making last."

His laugh was a coarse bark. "Right. This coming from the guy whose longest steady relationship was a year and hasn't had one since."

"But it _was_ a year," Dean said, emphasizing the statement. "A whole one. I tried. Not very well, I admit, but I did try. So tell me, Cas, do you still love her?"

"Of course I do."

"Then what are you doing ignoring her? Cut back on the women and the drugs and look at _her_ again. Come on. Why do you love her? What about her makes you feel complete or whatever? Woo her back. She still looks at you that way, you know."

"What way?" His attention finally on Dean alone, he gave that familiar puzzled frown.

He shrugged his brows. "Dude, you rock her world."

"Rock her world," he repeated with sardonic humor, then blinked, scorn falling away as Dean continued to stare at him, his head inclining as he waited for Cas to realize he was serious. The statement seemed to interest him the longer Dean stared and half nodded at him. "I do?"

"Totally. The point is, you've got to make some effort now. It's easy in the beginning, when you're both new to each other. It's exciting." He pointed a finger at him. "You know what I'm talking about. Learning about each other's likes and dislikes, discovering that she actually seems to purr when you touch…. Never mind. The middle? That's where it gets tough."

"The wisdom of Dean Winchester."

"Yeah, well I may not be very good at the actual doing part, but I do know what _should_ be done. You love her, you fight for her. Hell, you fought _me_ over her, Cas. Do you not remember that, because I do. I remember a knock-down drag out and then you telling me later that the love you felt for her was the fairytale stuff. Was all that talk about holding on to her a lie?"

"Never! I meant every word."

Dean thought it was a good sign when the question incensed him, anger sparking in his eyes. It was good to see something besides apathy. "It's not over until it's over and you two aren't done, so what are you doing here on the sidelines?"

"I screwed up, that's what I'm doing here."

He argued with Cas, tried to get him to do something, growing more frustrated by the minute. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the game end and the two teams disperse. When he glanced back, Jo was gone.

"I'll think about it, Dean." Cas got to his feet, rapping his knuckles on the table top several times. "Good talk."

"Hell it was. You throw her away, you're one dumb son of a bitch."

"Maybe I am," He sauntered away.

Dean hoped Cas would take his advice.

* * *

It was the perfect fall day for reading. Jo laid on the bed in her cabin, that tiny cabin all of her own, and worked her way through a Terry Pratchett novel. While she missed having Cas right there with her, she didn't miss his moods of late. He hadn't snapped at her since that last day, taking her words seriously, but he still wasn't how he'd been before his accident. Jo wasn't sure if he ever would be the same. She just knew that it felt like there was some sort of rift growing between them.

Lunch came and went. She wasn't hungry enough to go get any. Gradually, Jo fell asleep.

Hours later, she woke with a jerk, sitting, wondering what it was that had woken her. A noise, something familiar. She went to the door, looked outside. She smelled something…. Listening carefully, she waited, and heard it again: gunshots and the cry of 'fire!'. That was what she smelled, the acrid stench of burning woods, plastics, and other materials. Jo reached for her gun, the one Dean had insisted she keep with her, checking it, and hurrying towards the commotion.

She came upon chaos.

The infirmary and main lodge were ablaze, bodies littering the ground. Jo counted fourteen of them. The heat was intense, people scrambling to put the flames out, someone screaming that there were children trapped inside the lodge. The infirmary was a lost cause, the roof giving way, tossing up a shower of sparks that by some miracle didn't ignite the trees overhanging it. She saw Cas and Dean working together with hoses and buckets, hurrying from one section to another, trying to stop the flames from spreading, joined in that effort by others, and decided she'd be in the way if she tried to help. It was better if she kept out of the way and did what she could elsewhere.

Jo moved from body to body, identifying people as she went, finally coming upon people she knew fairly well. Ashley and her daughter Beth. Stephanie, Amanda, Alan, and Alexander. It felt like a fist squeezing her stomach. Oh no. Their doctor was dead, as was one of Dean's main management team.

She looked around again, this time spying Melanie curled up by the bushes at the start of the trails into the woods. She was in a tight ball, a gun beside her. As she approached, Jo saw blood on her clothes and skin.

"Mel?"

It took several tries before Melanie registered her there, staring up at her. Her gaze was regretful, sad, troubled, her voice raspy. "Alex was infected, Jo. He and Beth. Stephanie and Alan. All of them. I had to kill them, but the fire was already going." She transferred her gaze to the flames. "I had to kill them." She started laughing, the sound tinged with the beginnings of hysteria.

Jo knelt, hands clasping her shoulders. "Come with me, okay? Let's go get you cleaned up."

She led Melanie away from the fire.

* * *

The gunshots had alerted Cas. While it wasn't unusual to hear gunshots, they were far too close. He arrived to see Melanie shoot Stephanie, then stumble back towards the paths and sit heavily on the ground. There were other dead in the clearing. With the fire already going strong, he didn't have time to waste with Melanie. If it wasn't stopped, they could lose everything.

He found others joining him, discovered people at work already on the other side with hoses and buckets and waded in to their efforts to stop the blaze.

What felt like hours later, he paused, wiping sweat from his face with one shirtsleeve. He frowned, gaze touching upon faces there, streaked with dirt and soot. Here was Jo? She should be here. Castiel strode to the bodies, identifying each one. No Jo and when he asked, no one knew where she was.

Panic erupted and overflowed like lava from a volcano, sliding in a quick hot rush over his skin. Surely she hadn't been in the infirmary or main lodge. Surely she wasn't one of the ones they knew had been trapped there?

His imagination worked overtime, conjuring up images of her dead, or dying, burning to death. He stared at the remains of the infirmary and the still burning main lodge, feeling despair begin to join the panic. No, oh no. Not Jo. Not now. Not when he'd decided to take Dean's advice.

Behind him he heard Dean telling a team to do a head count; go from cabin to cabin and check off every single person they could find because he needed a list of damage to their numbers. Castiel turned and ran, ignoring the twinge of protest from his newly healed foot, going to Jo's cabin first, berating himself all the while for being so stupid. If he hadn't been behaving like a self-centered idiot, she wouldn't have been by herself. If he hadn't been looking for comfort everywhere but with her…. He burst through the door so hard the knob put a hole in the wall behind it, one glance telling him she wasn't there.

When he thought of life without her there, all that he saw were empty days yawning like a great chasm opening to swallow him whole. Bleak dark days with no ounce of light ever again. He would sink down into it unable to think or breathe until it consumed him.

He went on to Melanie and Alexis's cabin, finding only Melanie there, asleep beneath her covers. There was a pile of bloody clothes on the floor. As a last ditch effort to find her, he went to his own cabin, hurrying though the beads, feeling sick, like he was going to throw-up.

Jo was there, pulling on a clean shirt. She looked up. "Hey. Fire out yet?"

"You're here." He went to her, tripping over his own feet, dragging her against him. Cas knew he was babbling and was unable to stop himself. "You're here," he repeated. "I thought…no one had seen you and there were people trapped in the main lodge…I was afraid --"

"Cas, I'm okay. I'm fine. I found Melanie and took her to her cabin. I practically had to carry her. She went in to shock. I had to stay with her awhile otherwise I would have been out there with Emily taking--"

He squeezed her tighter, burying his face in her neck, breathing in the clean, perfumed scent of her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I am, Jo I've been horrible --"

"Easy. Hey, let go, okay? I can't breathe." She shoved on his shoulders until he released a little of his grip on her.

"I thought you were dead and the thought of never seeing you again --"

"Sshhh." She placed her fingertips to his lips and he kissed them, over and over. "I'm fine. I'm right here."

"Where were you?"

"Well, I fell asleep in my cabin and woke up after the excitement had started. I found Melanie right away and spent the time with her."

Cas kissed her, once, twice, three times and more, not drawing away until he felt calmer. "I don't want to lose you."

"I don't particularly want to lose you either." She rested her hands on his arms. "But this isn't the time to discuss this, Cas. I didn't mean to be so long with Melanie. I need to be out there helping Dean. We're going to have a lot to figure out in the next few hours."

He nodded, but when they returned to the fire, he kept her close to his side.

* * *

By the time Dean felt he could safely take his management team aside to confer what they knew about the tragedy, it was nearly one in the morning. The first order was to learn exactly what had happened. From what Jo said and what he'd heard from others thus far, Croatoan had somehow gotten inside the camp.

"Any idea how?" No one had any answers and Dean sighed. "Okay. Keep a watch for signs, you know what they are. Double up patrols, check every inch of fence. Alex liked to roam around, maybe he got out, got infected and came back in. I don't know. We need to look for potential entrance points, any place they might get in. Patch holes if you find them, radio it in." He dismissed them, still considering the how question. If Melanie's story was true, patient zero could have been any of the four. Alex had liked to roam around and, being nine, a hole in the fence would have been intriguing. But what about Beth, Stephanie, and Alan?

"You want coffee, Dean?"

He looked up. Nina was in the doorway, a thermos in her hands. He didn't recall having seen her before now. "You got plenty?"

She stepped inside. "I can make more." She brought the thermos over and opened it, then found a cup on one shelf and poured some. "I, uh, I might have an idea what happened."

Taking the coffee, he tipped his head back to study her. She was tense, features pinched and drawn. Nina didn't look so beautiful right now. She was every inch the age he'd pegged her at when he'd first met her: late-thirties. "Go on."

"Alex disappeared earlier. Alexis thought he was just hiding from her because he didn't want to take some test she and Noah were giving, but I saw him by the fence at the north end and he looked…odd. I didn't think anything of it really, because he always behaves a little weird. Behaved," she corrected herself. "One day he's a cowboy, the next he's George of the Jungle or something. Kids, you know? I thought…. He headed towards Ashley's cabin. Maybe I should have said something then."

"So you think he infected Beth and they got Stephanie and Alan?"

"Alan liked them both and…." she sighed. "He and Stephanie had a thing going. She'd meet him in his cabin about noon --"

"Which was right next to Ashley's out there on that end. Isolated from the rest. Alan and Ashley both like the privacy." He nodded. The timing worked out. "Okay. Anything out of the ordinary next time? You tell me immediately. We can't afford to wait on things like that." Reaching out, he put the top back on the thermos and slid it to her. "Wanna tell me what you were doing at that fence?"

"I was taking a walk." Her reply was smooth and too quickly said.

Dean snorted. Whatever. She'd probably been screwing someone. "You really a nurse before all this, Nina?"

A wariness grew in her eyes. "Yeah, why?"

"Because as of right now, you're the closest thing we have to a trained medical professional. Dust off your skills, sweetheart. You've been promoted to Doc."

"Dean, I don't --"

"You said you worked in an E.R. Now unless you want to admit to lying to me…?" She remained silent, then slowly shook her head. "Good. Time to quit playing around, Nina. Take some coffee to the team watching the fire if that's what you're committed for right now, then take your ass around to each cabin. Check for signs of Croatoan and keep doing it over the next day. Make sure you see every person accounted for and mark them off after each visit. I want a report tomorrow."

She snatched the thermos up, lips tight. "Whatever." With a miffed sniff, she left.

By morning, the damage was easily discernable, though the remains smoldered, too hot to approach with any comfort. A portion of the main lodge was still standing, yet badly damaged, three more bodies in the wreckage, two of which were children. Using binoculars to look because of the heat, Dean didn't think any of the three were burned. It must have been the smoke that killed them. The death toll was seventeen. They no longer had an infirmary or a doctor, all of their medicines and medical supplies gone. Whatever Cas had in his stash was the brunt of their supplies until they could raid for more.

He sat down with Chuck, going through the last inventory Alan had handed in, a tiredness creeping on him with every page they turned. Finally, Dean just closed the folder and slapped it down onto the table. "Damn it! We're starting from scratch again."

"The vehicles all have first aid kits and most of the cabins have some form of kit even if it's just antibiotic cream or iodine and bandages, but yeah…we're down to nothing really. We have to go out today. I don't see anyway around it."

"Go out and search for essentials that probably aren't there anymore." He wondered if Lucifer was behind it. If Alex had been lured away and sent back for this purpose. At this point, it wouldn't surprise him. "Fine. Get two teams ready. We'll send them in opposite directions."

"Two? But that's --"

"Do it. I'll be on one. Find Jo, tell her I need her to be visible while I'm out."

End of discussion.

Dean's team went to the city a couple hours to the north, slipping past a U.S. Army patrol and heading towards confirmed Croat territory. The boundaries of the infected area had increased since they'd been this way last, the damage to the buildings more severe. The inner fence, one of them at least, was wrecked. It looked like someone had tried to drive a semi through it. Maybe they had. It had amazed many people how quickly the government had slapped up fences to contain areas and then slapped up more when those looked like they weren't going to hold.

Dean put himself into mission frame of mind, guns ready, hyper-alert for trouble. If all went well, they'd be on their way before night fell.

They found a pharmacy, took what little was there and headed for the next, moving from one building to another in rapid succession. Their cache was piss-poor in his opinion, but at least they'd found a few things they could use: syringes, ace bandages, more iodine and some plain old aspirin. Of course the syringes were useless without medicines to go with them. He hoped the other team would have better luck.

They killed Croat after Croat before Dean decided it was getting way too hot to stay. "Pack it in. Let's get the hell out of here." Upon returning, he found Jo waiting, Cas not far behind her, watching her.

She came to him. "Beta team brought back nine people, all healthy, all willing to put their supplies in the camp pot for use. They're tired, awfully twitchy, and one of them says she was some kind of counselor. I don't know. She and Nina seem to make a good team though. Jane, that's her name, keeps the people calm while Nina checks them out. So far they seem clean."

He noticed Cas kept far away from any boxes that were being unloaded. "You think Nina really was a nurse then?"

Jo shrugged. "She looks to be doing exactly what Alan always did. Won't know until it's something major."

"Unfortunately." He motioned towards the supply cabin. "Guess that's our new infirmary as well as supplies warehouse. What'd beta bring back?"

"A few antibiotics, nothing heavy-duty. Some pain meds and antacids." They walked towards the cabin, Cas trailing behind them. "I got Cas to part with a chunk of his pills. He's kept the ones he prefers and even brought over half that box of condoms and what-not. He admitted he was possibly hoarding a little much."

"How did you manage that?"

"Don't ask."

He thought it likely had something to do with Castiel's panic when he wasn't able to find her the previous day. "All right. Take me to wherever Nina's got these new people and let me see them."

The next few days were a whirl of activity as they tried to control the damage and merge new people into their routines.

* * *

Having to shoot friends and children had done something that Jo hadn't thought possible. It brought some needed maturity to Melanie. She became quieter, more focused on the task of learning whatever Jo and Dean asked of her. She left Castiel's company of women for the most part, dragged with much emotional pain into present circumstances. Dallying with Cas no longer meant what it had. In only a few hours, Melanie had gone through a traumatic experience that caused a surge of growth. She hadn't stood still in the face of danger, acting instead, proving that the constant drills Dean and Jo had put her through did work. She gained confidence, using that confidence for something besides sex games in the afternoons.

Cas's group was shrinking. Jo watched it happen as 2013 began to wind down. With Katie, Stephanie, and Amanda all dead, Alexis seeing Jim and showing signs of reforming her ways, and Melanie occupied elsewhere, the only steady one left was Maggie. Jo was sure there were a few others here and there -- though she wasn't certain who they were because she never saw them --, but no one who kept returning like the core group had. The core group was a thing of the past.

It was a new experience to have Castiel's nearly steady attention and Jo relaxed, enjoying it. Even when she'd first arrived he hadn't been such a constant presence beside her. There'd always been hours where he was off doing other things. Now though, it was like the idea of losing her forever made him commit to working through the rough patch they'd hit. By mid-December, they'd managed to regain their ease with each other and the relationship they'd had before. It took a lot of hard work from both of them and Jo recalled many comments her mom had made about pushing through the rough spots -- what Jo had thought she was doing with Dean way back when and what she actually did with Cas.

It seemed like everything was going to be fine, that her sense of losing him had been merely a reflection of how out of control she'd felt.

Jo hoped that was the case.


	17. Chapter 17

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 17  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: Thank you for the comments and reviews thus far!

* * *

"Thanks for the help there, partner," Jo said, writing down the score. "We lost again. I think that's a new record."

Cas leaned over, hand curving about her neck, fingers caressing, and kissed her. "You knew before we started that I always lose at Pitch." He released her and sat back, raising his arms up and stretching. Jo heard his back pop several times as he twisted.

Across the card table, Maggie stacked the cards and began to shuffle them. "Not that I'm complaining about socializing or anything, but what's up?"

"Yeah, what gives?" Chuck shifted in his chair.

"What do you mean?" Jo dunked her teabag a few more times and took it out of the hot water.

Maggie shrugged. "You've been pretty antisocial and then suddenly decide to play cards?"

"Have we been antisocial?" Cas raised a brow.

"It could probably be seen that way," Jo confirmed. There were reasons they'd been in the background lately, one of which they would be getting to in a minute.

"I repeat, what's up?" Maggie waved the deck of cards around, then resumed shuffling. She seemed intent on mixing up the cards well.

"They're on to us," Cas murmured out of the side of his mouth, stretching out a hand to stop Maggie before she could deal. "Why not now?"

Jo took a sip of her hot tea and thought about how to start. Dean had asked that she and Castiel keep an eye on Nina. Jo didn't trust her and with the suspicion Nina may have had something to do with Alexander's brief disappearance the day of the fire, Dean had decided to have Jo and Cas do steady surveillance on her.

Cas was perfect for it. He had a way of slinking along and barely making a sound that was advantageous in tailing someone. It didn't seem fair to Jo that a man could move like that.

They'd ascertained Nina's daily schedule for a week, determining the hours she'd most need watching, and after attempting to do it all themselves, had decided they needed to recruit a couple people to help with the shifts. Maggie and Chuck were perfect. Maggie was sort of a messenger between the various parts of the camp, spending her days running back and forth, while Chuck, due to the infirmary now taking up a corner of supplies, had ample opportunity to observe Nina.

"Super-secret mission time, guys."

Maggie perked up. "Are you serious?"

Chuck didn't perk. Instead, he shook his head, managing to look as though the weight of the world had suddenly dropped upon his shoulders. "No, no, no, see whenever Dean says something like that it's always something dangerous and I just, I'm not --"

"It's an easy job," Cas told him. "Jo's being dramatic. And it's not dangerous unless you're caught." His left eyelid dropped down in a wink.

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better." His lips twisted, worry in his eyes. "What is it?"

Jo smiled. "It's not dangerous at all. Now who's being dramatic?" She arched a brow at Cas. "It's a tail job. Surveillance."

Maggie clapped her hands together. "Ooh, I love a good tail! Whose tail needs watching?"

"We need you to keep an eye on Nina."

Jo outlined the plan she and Cas had begun and gave both of them their time assignments. She knew Chuck wasn't thrilled with it, but he'd been suspicious of Nina for a long time, hoping to find something that she was doing wrong. As for Maggie, she seemed to think of herself as Nancy Drew in regards to the job. It didn't matter to Jo, as long as all times were covered.

On December twenty-seventh, the rain that had been threatening for days started, coming down with hurricane intensity. It rained constantly for nine days, the pond and creek swelling, overflowing. Trees fell as earth washed away from their roots and they lost three more people from a flash flood that swept the west side of the camp.

It was a good thing the rain kept people inside the cabins, because Jo was, by then, sick of tailing Nina all over the camp. They found nothing out of the ordinary. She did her shifts as doctor, sulking in supplies with Chuck, one end of the cabin cleared for an infirmary. When she wasn't there, she was in her own cabin and occasionally she'd surprise Dean in his cabin.

Jo wondered how long until Dean got tired of that bit. The good part of it was she was never there more than a few minutes before he showed up, giving her little time to snoop if that was her aim.

She also met with other men out in the woods and when it grew colder they used the building out by the Impala for their trysts. Jo and Cas made lists of each man she met with and at what time, then handed off reports to Dean every week. Finally, he gave the order to terminate the surveillance. Aside from the other men, she was apparently clear from other wrong doing.

Still, Jo and Cas continued to watch her, unsurprised when Chuck and Maggie insisted on doing the same.

* * *

The weird weather that had been going on since 2009 intensified even more, Dean's birthday bringing in a blizzard that ended up lasting five days before it was over. The temperature dropped sharply, further than it should for their part of the country, Dean helping Cas to put the door back on his cabin and temporarily move the beads. He ignored the fact that he'd reached thirty-five years old since it was about the same as thirty-four.

Time marched on. Dean watched life happen around him, from Jo and Cas going back to lovey-dovey, to Melanie becoming a damn good shot, to Chuck's further obsession of paper goods. He enjoyed his relationship with Melanie; how she'd accepted friendship and guidance and felt safe enough in that to be alone with her again. He let himself become attached to her because, hey, she still didn't go outside the camp and while there were dangers inside the fence, outside was far worse. She was a good kid. All she needed was someone to take her in hand and teach her, be a support while she learned. She was doing well overall in that pursuit and he was proud of her for it. He'd fallen into that father role with her, enjoying it now because he knew he'd probably never have kids of his own; never have the thrill of fatherhood. He should get it now where and while he could.

Why not enjoy it?

If he couldn't kill Lucifer, this was it. And even if he did, he didn't think he'd have the time to start a family later since later meant he'd have to immediately begin rebuilding instead of just trying to hold everything together.

The weekly meeting was one short, Jim out on a raid, but Dean saw no reason to post-pone it. Anything Jim needed to know, Dean would tell him when he got in. They gathered together, reviewing those items they needed to touch upon, and were halfway down the list when the door slammed open, Jim storming in. His clothes were ripped, stained with mud and blood.

All conversation stopped, Dean feeling that familiar gut clench that happened when he knew there'd been casualties. He could tell by Jim's face.

"Demons? Croats?" Dean looked up at him, hoping it was either or both and not scavengers again. The scavenger attacks were getting old. He was spoiling for a fight with them, half considering going out and looking for one. Retribution was in store for all the people they'd killed.

"Another ambush," Jim announced, almost falling into a chair, his lips twisting in disgust. "Like the last one. They knew where we were going and laid in wait." He snorted. "We lost seven people this time! Seven!" He counted them off on his fingers. "Jackie, Tom, Roger, Mick, Steve, Doug, Christine. That's most of my team, Dean. I want to find those bastards and gut them!"

"Damn," Dean muttered, tension sliding across his shoulders like the caressing hands of a familiar lover. Mick and Doug were two of their best shots. He couldn't figure out who was tipping off the scavengers. None of the people present at the table would and the information as to where they were going was on a need-to-know basis. No one needed to know until they were nearly leaving and still the scavengers outside knew.

They had a spy. Dean knew it. His team knew it. But who was it?

Castiel was too intent on living it up with Jo to betray them. He'd entered some strange alternate Cas world lately where everything was great and he had a perfect life with Jo -- and his occasional pieces of ass on the side. Not that Dean wasn't glad they'd made up. He was, but this bizarro world Cas had going on in his mind wasn't quite right. Cas knew damn well the world wasn't right, so why the pretend game that it was?

Chuck wouldn't jeopardize his own safety. He still babbled on about toilet paper.

Jim called all of them his family and since he'd lost his real family, he was a little nutty on keeping people alive -- even by Dean's standards.

Yeager was loyal, Dean knew it without a doubt.

As for Jo, he knew she wouldn't betray them. He knew Jo.

After thoroughly discussing who could be leaking information, he asked Jo and Cas to stay. They moved to the chairs beside him. "So," he asked, reaching for the coffee pot and pouring more coffee into his cup. "Anything?"

"What do you mean?" Jo had a carefully neutral expression on her face. She adjusted her jacket and leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms.

"What do I mean," he repeated. "I mean what have you and your crack team discovered, since I know very well you didn't stop watching Nina." Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he still suspected Nina as their leak. It was a hunch he'd developed that she was the one, somehow. He'd stopped their weekly trysts when it became clear she thought she had some sort of free reign to come and go in his cabin whenever she wanted. They'd had an argument over that, but apparently not enough of one to deter her from coming back to him every so often.

"If it is her, she's good getting info out, because we haven't caught her once." Jo glanced at Cas. "She takes regular walks around the perimeter fence, but then a lot of people do. It's quite a hike. Good exercise."

"If she's the one, then how is she doing it? How is she getting the info and how is she getting it out?"

Cas crossed his arms on the table and looked down at them. "Handing her findings to one of the men she's seeing and he gets them out? Climbing one of the trees, hopping over, dropping to the other side --"

"Yeah? Then what genius? How does she gets back in? Or he?"

His stare raised, brows lifting. "Have you considered that maybe she's telepathic? Or whoever it is is telepathic?"

"One outside, one inside?"

"No, that it's how she's getting the information to begin with."

Dean scowled. "That'd be fricken terrific."

"Hey, I'm just tossing out ideas, here."

"Well, get me answers." He didn't mean to snarl it, but he did, watching Cas's eyes darken before Cas shoved back his chair and stood.

"As my leader commands." The door slammed behind him.

"Nice. Your people skills are getting so good these days." Jo pushed her own chair back. "We'll figure it out, Dean. You want me to plan a memorial or something?"

He shook his head. He was the leader. It was his responsibility to give the living a remaining chance to say goodbye to the dead, one he did without fail every single time.

"Okay then. I'll, uh, get right back on the Nina problem."

Dean sat alone for long minutes, his head in his hands, before taking a deep breath and heading out to say kind words about people he hadn't even known well at all.

* * *

Castiel appeared determined to make it up to Jo for his surliness during his recovery, doing those things he'd done in the beginning. He would spend long minutes just kissing her, or running his hands along her body without touching any single place for more than a second or two. He would massage her back and legs until she fell asleep, her body limp and devoid of all tension, muscles loose and warm. The word for what he was doing was 'woo'. He wooed her and Jo was more than willing to let it go on. They'd steal moments together throughout the day between the various activities they engaged in.

Like now.

They were on the couch, Cas shirtless, the t-shirt he'd been wearing tossed somewhere to her left, the same direction her shirt and bra had gone flying after he'd removed them from her. Jo was on her back, jeans undone and thighs a cradle for his hips. She was ready to suggest they move to the bed, actually opening her mouth to say it when she saw the two women, Maggie and Alexis, standing in the doorway. Was it time to go already?

Sliding her hands around, she gave Cas a gentle nudge along his ribs. "We've got company." A glance at her watch over Cas's back showed that the two were actually late.

"Mmm. Okay." He continued to nuzzled her neck as though her words hadn't registered.

"Cas, stop. Maggie and Lex are here. We're going to be late."

Groaning, he raised up onto his forearms. "If I must. It doesn't matter if we're late or if we go at all. It's just a contest. They'll start without us." His attention strayed to the doorway. "Would you give us a couple minutes?" When they'd gone, he levered off of her. "It's such a shame for you to cover up. You do topless very well."

"Not in front of an audience I don't," she retorted, snagging her bra and sliding it on.

"You always look good topless." He attempted to draw her back against him.

She squirmed away, knowing very well what would happen if he caught her. She'd be on her back topless again. "Cas, stop. They're waiting."

He was quiet a moment, hand sliding on her arm. "They won't mind," he replied, his tongue touching the corner of his mouth. His touch on her arm tickled, fingers drawing tiny invisible designs.

Jo glanced at him, holding her shirt against her chest. He was watching her, head tilted a little, lips parted. "They might not and you might not, but I do. No audience. You know that." She pulled away from him and put her shirt on.

"Wait, Jo, did you think…?" He blinked in surprise, shaking his head. "I meant that we could ask them to come back later and continue where we left off. I wouldn't ask you to do that. You made it very clear you weren't interested in that."

"I'm dressed now."

"I could take care of that in approximately one minute." He beckoned with a hand. "Come here. Allow me to demonstrate."

"No way." If she let him, it'd take him way less than a minute to divest her of her top and bra. Thirty seconds perhaps?

He did catch her, drawing her into his embrace, his hands on her hips. "I'm glad I have you. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't."

Pain slid about his eyes in a split second and was gone. Jo decided not to say anything about it, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him. "Do you really want to blow off the contest?"

He sighed. "I guess not. Miss the chance to see Melanie compete with a bow and arrow? That's a thing I never thought I'd see."

The reached the range as the contest began.

* * *

There was no stopping the nightmares that had continued to plague Castiel all these months. They gripped him in the night, as tight and unyielding as Meg's grasp on him that afternoon he'd finally killed her. Sometimes he wondered if Jo knew that was why he woke her early in the mornings, insistent for kisses, touches, and more until the nightmares faded from his thoughts and pleasure replaced the raw pain. Did she know that her presence was no longer enough to soothe him; that he now needed a more proactive plan of escape from his pains? Had he hidden it well enough from her? He didn't want to hurt her because he continued to love her.

Cas was careful not to wake Jo as he slipped from the bed and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He turned on the tap in the sink, cupped his hands beneath the spray and leaned down, splashing lukewarm water on his face, then raised up and dried with a small towel. Narrowing his eyes a little, he studied his reflection.

The face he'd come to call his own, though it was really Jimmy's, was aging. He could see minute traces of the process -- a slight deepening of the lines at his eyes and mouth and the like.

More weakness. More human frailty. He was rife with it.

There was the briefest of stirrings in his mind, as though Jimmy was trying to say something. Castiel waited. No words came. Jimmy rarely spoke anymore, but every so often, Cas would get a clear picture of Amelia and Claire in his head and knew Jimmy was worrying over their fates.

With a long, shuddering sigh, Cas closed his eyes. Terror from the dream of Meg remained, lingering, an unwanted guest. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, willing the unease to fade and failing in that quest. He always failed anymore in that regard. His comforts to combat that unease, like Jo, were simply not enough anymore, Cas carrying the apprehension with him both day and night.

Why? Because the end was coming.

It was something he could feel , like he'd once felt his angel brethren around him, an electrical tap along his body and a certainty in him that this escalation of events around them was a natural part of Lucifer's plan. He could sense death in the air like a thick fog covering the earth. The world was Lucifer's playground now and they were all toys he used and discarded once they were broken.

Cas opened his eyes, staring at his reflection once more.

Eat, drink, and be merry, for the end is nigh.

Grasping the sides of the sink, he bit back a laugh. From all powerful angel to all too broken human. What a great life he had.

Not that he'd have much more of it.

By his calculations, there'd be about three more years before Lucifer had used up the last of the earth and then…the lights would all go out for good. In a way, Cas longed for that to happen, an end to his sufferings -- a desire that scared the crap out of him. Was he actually craving nothingness?

Desperation began it's rise inside him, that familiar sensation he'd gotten fairly good at hiding from Jo. Whenever he felt it growing, he'd hold her, kiss her, nuzzle her, _anything_ to feel good again.

Without glancing at the shelf to his left, he reached up to it and plucked a pill bottle from the ones there. He kept several bottle there, favorite pills that gave various means of escape alone and together. Over the months, he'd experimented with each one in combinations, discovering which he liked the best. He shook a pill out, stared at it in the palm of his hand a moment, then shook another out, capping the bottle and returning it to the shelf.

Double the pills, double the escape. Add in how he planned to wake Jo in a minute and make that a triple order of anesthetic, please. Down the hatch. Bottoms up, good sir.

Cas took the pills, swallowing them with a little water, then brushed his teeth.

Everything is fine, he thought. Everything is dandy. I'll grin my way through another day.

And maybe with the triple method he could sleep a little while longer.

He watched himself shove his despair deep inside, replacing the haunted expression with a mask and, ready for the next step in his self-medication routine, he went to wake Jo.

* * *

It was late when Jo woke to Dean crouched by her side of the bed. She knew it was late because the moon had shifted position.

"Jo," Dean whispered, hand cupping her bare shoulder and lightly nudging. Even when they'd been fighting, he still woke her as gently as possible. "Come on, Jo. Wake up."

She raised up onto her elbows. "I'm awake," she whispered back. "If you need Cas, you're SOL until morning. He's been having some hellatious nightmares about some demon so he's been taking more than usual."

"No, it's not Cas we need."

"You just getting in?"

"Yeah. Get dressed and meet me out front." He stood. "Hurry."

Curiosity propelled her, Jo hurrying to throw some clothes over the chemise and put her shoes on. Halfway across the camp, Dean stopped her.

"We had a run-in with those scavengers, wounded them pretty well, but…uh…it wasn't exactly a fair fight. We caught them with their pants down. Literally." He ran a hand through his hair. "They had a girl, maybe sixteen years old, down on the ground." He paused. "They were raping her, Jo. Right out in the open."

She watched discomfort and disgust slide across his features. He may have changed a lot over the time that had passed, but rape still got to him. "Where's Jane?"

"She got shot. Nina's patching her up."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Come sit with the girl, keep her company. It's just for a few hours, until Nina can check her out. Gunshot wounds are priority first."

This was what Jo hated about finding survivors anymore. Unless they were in a group, those who came to them these days were in extremely bad shape and even then, some of the groups were in horrible shape themselves. Some people lived only hours, from injuries they'd tried to treat before Dean's teams found them. Others did little more than barely exist. And then there were the rape victims. It wasn't just scavengers who did it. They'd found victims of U.S. soldiers as well. Bad times brought out the worst in men regardless of what side they claimed they were on.

He motioned for her to follow him and resumed walking. "There were a couple other women being held by them, waiting their turn, I guess. One of them has quite a mouth on her. I think you'll like her. Name's Risa. They had her trussed up pretty well and gagged. She told Jim she'd killed two and wounded another before they brought her down. Said that they told her she was going to be last because they wanted the entertainment to last awhile."

"Nice. Classy people out there." To her surprise, she found Melanie already there, talking to the girl in a low voice, hand stroking her brow. The girl was asleep, yet still, Melanie talked.

"Mel?"

"Jane said to keep talking to her even if it looked like she was asleep," she explained. "I'm not sure why."

Jo joined her. "You've come a long way," she observed, bumping her shoulder to Melanie's a little.

Melanie glanced at her. "I was lucky, you know? That could have been me." She moved her hand down, taking the girl's left hand in hers. "I was lucky Dean dragged me out from under that desk, that I was brought here, that you came here, and…everything. I was lucky. A lot of people weren't."

That summed it up pretty well. A lot of people weren't lucky.

Over the next few weeks, Jo got to know the new people brought in and continued to work on the scavenger puzzle. The method for relaying information had to be one so simple it was obvious, something they were over thinking. Granted, Nina was smart, but she wasn't so smart she could outsmart Jo, Castiel, Dean and a team of others. It bothered her that they couldn't figure it out, rather like a sore tooth that twinged with pain every so often.

It seemed the days flew by and by Jo's birthday, they were already having a heat wave. Bake or freeze, there didn't seem to be an in-between anymore.

Jo was putting away her clean laundry when a knock sounded on the doorframe. With the warmer temperatures, Cas had removed the door again and returned the beads to the place he preferred them. "Come on in," she called, expecting it to be either Melanie, Maggie, or Alexis.

It was Dean.

He stood inside the door, hands behind his back, an odd wary expression on his face. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Finished with her trunk, she closed the lid and stood. "You need something?"

"No, no." He brought his hands around, holding a rectangular box wrapped in…angel wrapping paper? "I, uh, I came to give you this."

"Is that Christmas paper?"

"It's all Chuck had."

She took it, hefted it, noting that the angels were all blond and wore white dresses. There was some weight to the box. "What is it?" It's a properly wrapped gift, her mind drawled, unlike the last one he tried to give you.

"Open it and see."

Sliding a finger under the tape, she carefully unwrapped the box and lifted the lid. Inside was a knife very much like her dad's knife -- the one she'd lost during that attack that had left her mother dead. "Oh Dean…."

"Happy birthday, Jo. See? I did remember this year. I thought you might like to have a knife again."

"It was sweet of you. Thank you." Moving close, she raised up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

His hands curved around her arms, holding them in a loose grip. "Jo, are you happy? I mean with Cas and all of that."

"Um…yeah." Why on earth would he ask that? "Of course I am. Why…?"

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear it." He cleared his throat. "Would you do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"If something happens, would you step in? I mean something really bad. Would you take care of these people?" His fingers slid up and down her arms, the touch tickling a little.

"I guess. Why? You know something I don't?"

"No, I just want to cover all my bases."

She thought he was lying, but didn't know for certain. Dean was very good at lying when he wanted to be. "Okay. Sure. I'll take care of them. It's in my job description, right?"

"Promise me."

"Dean, I promise I'll take care of these people. I promise I'll lead them in your absence."

Giving her arms a final squeeze, he released her, lips slipping into a crooked grin. "Thank you." With the extraction of that promise, he left without any more conversation passing between them.

Though Jo pondered what that promise he'd asked for could mean, she decided it meant nothing. It was only Dean being cautious.


	18. Chapter 18

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 18  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

With all the other weird weather they'd been having, an earthquake shouldn't have been a surprise. It wasn't a bad one, not at the camp. Dean wondered where the worst of it had hit and if there'd be any surprises in store for them from it later. He watched Chuck and a few others putting items back on shelves.

"How low are we," he asked, knowing full well what Chuck's answer would be.

"We're down on everything." Leaning over his desk, Chuck moved piles of papers until he found what he wanted, handing them to Dean. "The things we have no one really wants. Even Emily can't make some of these things taste good, though she tries. There's a list of good targets beneath, if they're still standing."

"Let's get a team out tomorrow then," he replied, running a finger along the list of goods they were out of.

"Can I go too?"

Dean looked up. "Excuse me?"

It was Melanie asking, walking over to them. "I want to go."

Lowering the papers, he smiled. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Melanie? You some sort of pod person?" He shook a finger at her in mock suspicion.

She laughed. "No, of course not! It's just it's the one thing I haven't really done yet. Come on, Dean, please? I've worked all the stations, even the watch. I've done inventories, worked repairs, worked on the vehicles, learned all of the weapons enough to pass your tests. I want to do this too. I _can_ do it."

Her pleading gaze and sweet smile softened him a little and he flipped the pages in his hand until he found the list of targets. There was one he knew was still standing as he'd gone past it not more than a week earlier and they'd never had any trouble at that site save the occasional Croat. "I don't know…."

"It doesn't have to be a big one. A little one is fine. I just want to go once, that's all. I'll follow orders, I'll do whatever the team leader says."

"It's dangerous, Melanie."

"Everything is dangerous these days," she pointed out with a smug turn to her lips. She knew he was considering it. "Once, Dean, and then I won't ask to go again. I'll stay in the camp and work all the other jobs."

What would once hurt? Dean weighed the options and nodded. "Okay. You can go."

She threw herself against him, hugging him tight. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

He let her go on that way for a few minutes, then tossed the papers at Chuck's desk, grasped her hips, and set her from him, raising a finger up. "You can go, _but_…you will stay with whoever I tell you to. No wandering off. You'll take your gun and you'll be serious the entire time we're out."

She sobered. "Of course. I promise."

"Okay then. Let me go talk to Jo about it before you get too excited. She might have something planned for you already."

"But if you tell her I'm going, she won't mind."

"Let me talk to her. You stay here and help Chuck until I get back."

He found Jo in the laundry, talking with Risa.

* * *

Jo was halfway through her laundry when Risa came through the door, a wicker basket of clothes and sheets in her arms. "Morning."

"Any washers free?"

"Two on the end." Jo put clothes in one dryer and returned to the book she was reading. Dean Koontz this time, one of Maggie's books. There was silence for a few minutes, broken only by Risa putting laundry into the washers.

Risa cleared her throat. "So, you knew Dean way back when?"

Straight to the point. She'd learned Risa wasn't one to beat around the bush. "You could say that."

"I could say it, but would it be true?"

Jo marked her place in the book and looked over at her. Risa had her back to the washers, leaning against one, her arms crossed. "It would. Dean and I go way back."

"You're not his girlfriend." Her eyes were narrowed a fraction. Jo'd noticed Risa had been studying her an awful lot, as though she couldn't quite figure Jo out. "I know that. You're Castiel's…something."

"Girlfriend works. It's the closest word I guess for what I am to Cas."

"What are you to Dean?" She uncrossed her arms, rested her hands on the washer behind her. "I get the obvious second-in-command type thing, though you don't seem to go out of the camp often, regularly attend meetings or any of that administration stuff, but you're not his girlfriend and you seem to have some history."

She was fishing. Jo didn't particularly care if Risa knew about her relationship with Dean -- what it had been and what it had ended up. "Well, we were friends, then lovers, then pissed off with each other, grudging friends, and now we're sort of like family work colleagues. Don't try to put it in a single label. Dean and I are complicated and always have been. Our timing was never quite right to be what either of us wanted at a given time."

She nodded, her expression making it obvious she was giving Jo's words serious thought. "Did you always know about this stuff? The creepy crawlies and things that go bump, I mean?"

"Sure did." Jo stretched her legs out, crossing her ankles. This, Jo decided, is a woman who knows what she wants, circles, and gets it when she's ready. Dean was right. Jo liked her.

"Did Dean?"

"He's known a very long time. You'd have to ask him for the whole story if you really want to know."

Risa pursed her lips, blinked, and nodded once. "Maybe I will."

"Go right ahead."

The door opened, Dean stepping through. "Hey, Jo --" He paused, gaze sliding from Jo to Risa. He stood up a little straighter, nodded to Risa in a casual manner. "Risa."

"Dean." Risa turned their back to both of them as though disinterested in his presence.

That's it, Jo thought. Play hard to get. He'll like that. She could see he was interested by how his glance slid down Risa and back up. "You need something Dean?"

"Walk with me a minute?"

"Sure." She got up from her chair and followed him out of the building. "What's up?"

He led her towards the path into the woods. "Melanie asked to go on the raid tomorrow and I'm letting her go. It's a safe outing, Jo, or as safe as ours get these days. She'll be with me the whole time."

Melanie? Going on a raid? Tension trickled along her spine, Jo making a split-second decision to go as well. "Wrong. She'll be with both of us. I'm going too."

"Oh, Cas'll love that. You, me, _and_ Melanie all gone at the same time?"

"He'll get over it."

"You so sure about that?"

No, she wasn't. Jo frowned. "Let me talk to him. Break it to him gently."

He smirked. "Try a blow-job. Those usually get us guys in an agreeable mood."

She smirked right back. "Yeah, he loves those. Especially first thing in the morning."

His mouth opened, then closed. He shook his head. "Too much information, Jo."

"You started it."

"That I did," he agreed. "That I did. Guess I'll go tell Melanie she's good to go."

Cas wasn't thrilled when Jo told him. She could see him thinking about joining them and deciding he really didn't want to. He told her to be careful, said he'd wait with Alexis for all of them to return.

She didn't even have to resort to Dean's crude suggestion to relax him over it.

* * *

"I'm going, Lex! I'm going on a raid tomorrow!" Melanie tried to contain her enthusiasm. She was going on her first raid, a thing she remembered once swearing she'd never do -- and she was excited to do it. She'd worked hard to reach this point, amazed at the changes in herself. She hadn't believed Jo when she'd said guns weren't really that scary, but Jo had been right. Jo had been right about many things.

Her family wouldn't recognize her to see her now. They'd never believe she could ever be the woman she'd become. They'd be surprised she could shoot a gun, or even wield a bow and arrow with accuracy. They'd scoff that she could change the oil in a vehicle or change a tire.

Alexis sat on the end of the bed. "Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to, right? Dean didn't order you to go?"

"Of course not. He said I don't ever have to go on a raid at all, but I want to. I spent so long just floating along here and now I can actually do things. This is a good thing, Lex! I'm independent. I've learned to make my own decisions and that's what I'm doing. I know it's dangerous. I know something could happen. I know it."

"And you still want to go?"

"Yes. Dean says that this one is a cakewalk. They've gone to this place a hundred times and never had trouble save a few Croats. And he and Jo are both going."

Alexis arched a brow. "Does Cas know?"

Melanie got up and started pacing. Alexis was beginning to wear down her buoyant mood. "Jo and Dean are going to talk to him today. Please, please be happy for me! I was happy when you snagged Jim, remember?"

Alexis sighed. "Okay. I'll try. Is it okay if I worry while you're gone though?"

"I think that's allowed." She picked out her clothes, a blouse that wasn't as frilly as the other two she had and her other pair of jeans, then checked to make sure she had everything ready.

When they returned tomorrow afternoon, she'd celebrate another milestone in personal growth with all of her friends.

* * *

Nina was waiting on the porch of his cabin. She held up a square container that had several tiny bottles in it. "You too pissed with me to have a drink with me?"

"I'm not pissed with you, Nina, I'm just tired of your shit. There's a difference and I thought I told you not to keep coming around like this."

"Corrected then, and it's not like I went inside. I stayed out like a good girl, because you made it very clear what would happen if I didn't." She pulled out one bottle, twisted the cap and held it out to him. Despite telling her to scram, she still came around most nights at this hour and asked to have a drink with him. "I'll take my shot and go," she promised. "Bottoms up."

Mini whiskey bottles as usual. The one she'd handed him was Jim Beam. Dean drained it, then handed her the bottle. "Drink taken. Anything else?"

She drank down her own, tossing the empty bottle back in the container. "Since you don't seem inclined towards conversation, I suppose not."

Like he'd been inclined towards much of anything with her in weeks.

He watched her flounce away in a huff and went inside to go to bed. They had a long day ahead of them and wanted to be ready for it. He changed clothes, brushed his teeth and sat down on his bed.

The next thing Dean knew, it was morning and Melanie was shaking him awake, telling him he was late. Lifting his head, he saw Jo behind her, giving her watch an exaggerated stare.

"So, you tell us we're leaving at eight sharp and decide to sleep in?" Jo raised her brows.

He yawned and squinted at the clock on the floor by his bed. "I must have been more tired than I thought. Give me ten minutes and I'll be out."

Melanie was true to her word the previous day, serious the entire drive, sandwiched in the cab of one truck between Dean and Jo. She kept an eye out for Croats and anything else as they drove. Dean tried not to grin at her enthusiasm, but Jo didn't bother to hide her amusement.

They pulled up to the grocery, one of those small groceries small towns sometimes had. This town had been evacuated when the virus headed towards it, the people supposedly getting out before too many had been infected. Dean knew otherwise. He and a previous team had found a grave pit a few miles West of the town. He suspected it contained most of the men, women, and children in the town and a few others who'd been just visiting. Someone had killed them all and Dean wasn't even sure how they'd died. There weren't gunshot wounds or anything else that they'd been able to see, just bodies tossed away like trash.

The other trucks pulled up as well, two backing up so they could easily load whatever they could find remaining. Jo slipped from the truck and shouldered her rifle, walking to one truck and giving the orders she and Dean had discussed on the way over. Dean opened his door and got out, then motioned to Melanie. She moved towards him on the seat, turning to slide down. He remained in her way, blocking her from leaving the relative safety of the truck just yet, cupping her head, rubbing his thumb against her ear. "Remember, if you're not with me, you're with Jo."

"I know." Melanie smiled, excitement dancing in her eyes. "And I've got my gun. It's even loaded."

Dean kissed her forehead. "Okay, come on, newbie. Let me show you the ropes." He helped her from the truck.

It was a normal job, boring even with the apparent absence of Croats. They cleared the building, then set about loading items onto the first truck. Two man teams went down the aisles, grabbing whatever was there because the zone was no place to check everything. They'd take it back to Chuck and let him sort it all out. Dean saw a case of peaches, another of soup, and a few toiletry items that would make Chuck cry in relief. Funny how he'd never thought Chuck of all people would miss those sorts of things.

They'd loaded two trucks and were making to load the third when the first shot was fired and their fourth truck exploded into a ball of flame.

* * *

With half the job done, Jo had almost thought there wasn't going to be trouble. She was terribly wrong. With two trucks blown up, they had to dump some goods before they could load everyone on and book for safety. She might have even cried for that if she hadn't been too busy trying to keep herself and everyone around her alive to make it back to camp.

Jo felt Melanie drop and thought that Dean had urged her to do so because she saw him move too out of the corner of her eye.

"Jo."

Her name was an anguished cry and she ducked, turning her head.

Dean had Melanie in his arms. Jo saw her convulse and then her head lolled back against his shoulder, eyes sightless. There was a hole in her chest, blood running freely from the wound. For several long seconds, Jo thought there had to be something they could do for her. She couldn't be dead. She'd been safe there between Jo and Dean, crouched down.

She heard Dean's gasping breaths, saw his mouth trembling, the roll of emotions across his face and in his eyes, a deep pain that grew deeper as she watched, cracking the façade of the new Dean. He covered the wound with one hand. Any second she was going to see him break apart, splintering into a million tiny fragments that couldn't ever be put back together again….

A truck halted beside them, dust swirling, making her cough. Jim's voice, entreating them to 'haul ass' registered. Jo moved, grabbed at Dean.

"Come on!"

He wouldn't leave Melanie there, carrying her to the truck. Jo felt a sharp breeze against her cheek, knew she'd been grazed by a bullet, and then hands were grabbing her, dragging her up into the truck bed and they were racing away, someone lowering the back cover to hide them.

There was enough light to see Dean cradling Melanie to him all the way back to camp.

* * *

Castiel and Alexis waited in silence for the team to return. It shouldn't have taken this long. They both knew it. Something had gone wrong.

When the trucks finally returned, there were two instead of four, neither Jo nor Dean driving.

He drew in a gulping breath, wishing he'd taken another pill or something to calm the panic inside him. Please, he thought. Not Jo. Not Dean. Not both of them. I can't do this without both of them.

The trucks stopped, the backs opening. He saw Dean jump down and turn, reaching up, and then Jo appeared, shifting someone to him.

His relief at seeing them turned to icy sludge in his veins as Dean gave the body Jo moved to him a tug. The limbs were too limp. Dean hefted the figure and started towards them, Jo jumping down and following. There was blood on their clothes and faces.

It was Melanie Dean carried.

Cas felt Alexis's nails digging in to his arm, heard her anguished moan as Dean passed them. Blood slicked the entire front of Melanie's blouse and he saw a hole…. He couldn't seem to breathe, lungs refusing to pull in the air he needed.

"He's taking her to the infirmary, right," Alexis asked, swaying against Cas.

Jo's left cheek had a gash on it that was crusted with dried blood. She shook her head. "No, sweetie. Melanie's gone. There's nothing we can do for her anymore."

She sounded just like her mother. If Cas couldn't see her, he'd have thought Ellen Harvelle stood there. He had the urge to start laughing and just keep on laughing until someone got sick of hearing it and put a bullet in his brain. He bit his lip, fumbling in his pockets, trying to remember if he'd put any pills in them.

Jo continued, Ellen Harvelle's _voice and tone _continued. "She was gone before she hit the ground. Dean wouldn't leave her there. Lex, she never even knew she'd been shot. It was that quick. One second she was alive and the next she was gone."

Jo was lying, Cas could see it in the way she quirked a brow just a fraction. She wanted to spare Alexis the truth.

With a sob, Alexis turned and ran.

Jo's fingers snapped in front of Cas's face and he realized she'd been talking to him. "Huh?"

"I need you to gather a few people and stay with her tonight. Cas, I'm the one who's going to have to take care of the arrangements. Dean's in no shape. This hit him hard. Can I count on you to do this one thing for me?" She waited, brows raised. "Cas?" Reaching up, she cupped his face in her hands, thumbs sweeping across his cheekbones. "Pull yourself together. I need you. Help me, okay?"

He stared at her. She needed him. She needed him to be strong so she could be strong. He nodded. "Sure. Um…Chuck, Jim, and Emily would be good." He licked his lips, wondering when they'd gotten so dry. "Maybe Maggie too."

"Good. Plan it. I've got to get this cleaned up, make sure everyone gets the medical attention they need, and then I'll be going to box Melanie's things. Find Maggie and have her bring someone she thinks would be good to help me. I'll have Maggie bring Alexis to the cabin."

"Yeah. Okay." Cas watched her go and found it difficult to comprehend that Melanie was dead. It didn't seem right that she was gone and had died in a way he'd never thought possible: on a raid.

* * *

Jo didn't sleep at all that night. From experience, she knew they had to bury Melanie quickly, so she directed men to dig a grave, spent a few minutes letting Nina put a couple stitches in the gash on her cheek, then took several boxes to the cabin Melanie had shared with Alexis. Maggie brought a girl named Sara with her.

Alexis didn't want to let them in, standing in the doorway, pleading with them to go away. Jo hugged her, holding her until her sobs lessened, then spoke to her in a soft, yet firm tone. "You know we have to. Pick one of her things to remember her by if you like, but the rest need to be taken."

"It's cold, unfeeling, cruel --"

"It has to be done. You know it's the policy. Pick something, then go with Maggie. You're spending the night with Cas. Maggie'll stay, too and Chuck, Jim, maybe Emily. All friends. Go with Maggie, Lex."

"Won't you be there?"

"I have my job to do, but when I'm done, we'll sit down and toast her memory really well, okay?" It was hard for Jo not to tear up saying that, but she blinked back those tears and stood firm.

Alexis nodded. She chose the sun-catcher from Melanie's window, then left as Jo had told her to.

This task was hard. Jo and Sara taped boxes open and began to sort Melanie's belongings into them. The bedding and dirty clothes went into a bag to go to laundry to be washed, dried and returned to supplies. Everything that could be redistributed would be. At this point, they could hardly afford to be choosy.

Jo had Sara take Melanie's sketchbooks to her cabin -- hers, not the one she shared with Cas. Once the boxes were full, Jo glanced around for anything they may have missed. Nothing. Five boxes and one bag was the sum of Melanie's life in the camp. Tidied up and put away.

Several men took the boxes and she headed out to the gravesite to check on the progress.

By dawn, a grave was ready and Jo went to Dean's cabin, four men with her. He'd taken Melanie's body there and refused to let anyone in. She rapped on the door and opened it, surprised that it actually opened. She'd been expecting a barrier against it. According to others, there'd been one earlier. "Dean? Can I come in?"

Dean had his back to the door and to Melanie's body, staring out one window. The covers were torn from his bed and she noticed the top sheet was beneath the body, ready to carry her out. Jo stepped inside. Melanie's shirt was changed, the blood cleaned from her face. With a start, she recognized the shirt as one of Dean's. He'd put one of his own on her rather than send for one of hers.

Jo wiped her cheeks free of tears. She'd been crying off and on all night, whenever she was alone long enough to break down a little. "We have to take her now."

"Go ahead." His voice was flat.

The men entered, gathered Melanie and left. Dean made no move to follow.

"You coming," she asked, expecting him to nod and follow her.

"Why should I?" He sounded strangely unconcerned, almost puzzled by the question.

Shock, Jo thought. He has to be in shock.

But then he turned and Jo's heart gave a little painful lurch. His gaze was cold, with no light of any emotion at all. She would have preferred anger, or mockery, or _something at all_ to that unemotional stare. His bloodshot eyes and the nasally tone to his voice indicated that he had been crying, but all emotion was now gone. "Because she was one of your people. Because you cared about her. Because…."

"Funerals are for the living, Jo. She doesn't care anymore what happens. She's gone and I already said my goodbyes." The words were matter-of-fact, as if they discussed some dry history lesson.

"Dean."

"Make sure you wait until the crowd disperses before salting and burning. It upsets people." Said as though he couldn't understand why average person would be upset by it. Without another word, he turned his back on her.

Jo stared at him, shook her head, trying to think of something to say and failing. Finally, she turned and left, heading to the gravesite. She did the task Dean had once assigned for himself, giving a eulogy of sorts and waiting for the crowd of people to leave before lifting the salt and moving towards the grave.

"Please tell me Dean was here before everyone else got here." Castiel's voice came from behind her, raspy and thick from the tears she knew he'd cried for Melanie.

Jo hesitated, hands pausing in the task of salting the body. "No." She finished with the salt and set the box down, turning to face him. "He said that he'd already said his goodbyes, that funerals are for the living."

"This is the first funeral he's missed since starting this camp."

She knew that. Even when they'd lost several people at a time, if the bodies were in the camp, Dean saw them buried. This reversal of his policy? Not a good thing. He was divorcing himself emotionally.

Divorcing, her mind drawled, her continuing thoughts a bitter cadence. He's already done with that task. He's a different Dean now, sweetie, a brand new creation crawling from ashes.

Cas stepped around the end of the grave to stand beside her. He understood as well as she did what the change meant. "He's cut out his feelings because they offend him too much too remain."

And buried them completely because it was just too much to bear. Jo had an inkling what must have gone through his mind the previous night there alone with the body all those long hours. Melanie had trusted him, looked up to him, and he'd been powerless to save her even with her encircled in one arm tucked against his side. He'd let himself care for her, treated her like family, and gotten burned once more. "Yeah Cas, he has."

Cas started the fire for her and they stood together, watching the flames until the men came to shovel the dirt back into the hole and close the grave. Jo remained when Cas walked away, directing the addition of a small cross to mark the grave.

A cold breeze swept the clearing.

Jo shivered and stared down at the grave until it started to rain.


	19. Chapter 19

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 19  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

The week after Melanie's death, people were somber, voices were hushed and daily tasks were carried out slowly to make them last longer and fill empty hours. They had nine people take their names off the raid party lists and Dean spent most of the time shut up in his cabin, refusing to see anyone. Those he did see usually emerged with tight lips and the beginnings of a foul mood.

Castiel trudged along the perimeter fence for hours every day, searching for the means of passing information that he and Jo were both sure was there. It was something simple, something obvious, something they'd not considered. He knew it and maybe if he'd been quicker about finding it, the spy would be caught and Melanie would still be alive.

He cried every night, half expecting Melanie to come through the beads and ask what he was sad about. She'd been good about that, about trying to cheer him up.

"Cas, we've been out here for hours."

"You can go back if you want." He walked across the footbridge, then returned to the railing and leaned against it, staring at the road outside the fence. The wood of the railing was rough against his palms.

It pissed him off that they'd found nothing and Nina was going to get away with it. He knew in his gut that it was her. If they didn't catch her, she'd continue to tip off the people outside and they'd lose even more people. Why? What was her reason for it? He couldn't understand why someone would do what she was doing. She had relative safety in the camp. She had food, water, clothing, a semblance of normal society. What had caused her to give away information?

Cas scanned the woods on the other side of the road with a long, sweeping glance. Something simple….

"No, I said I'd stay with you today and I will." Jo joined him, slipping an arm around him and resting her cheek against his arm. "I'm out of ideas. I'm so out of ideas my brain hurts."

In a burst of temper, he kicked one of the posts, dislodging a piece of wood. He kicked again. It plopped into the water and he watched it swirl and bob and disappear into the drain that led the overflow pond water out into the stream.

Cas blinked, head turning, tilting a little to the right.

Water. Disappear.

His heartbeat quickened, an idea forming. "Jo." Cas patted the pockets of his cargo pants. He pulled out a condom, still wrapped in a bright colored package, held it up for her to see, and arched a brow. "I think I know how."

"Honey, I _know_ you know how," she returned in a teasing tone, curiosity in her eyes.

"No, not that." He moved from her embrace, left the bridge and went to the water, crouching down and pointing to the drain. "I think this is how she does it. This drain, it takes the water away from the camp, right?"

"Yeah." Her lips parted, understanding of his train of thought showing in her eyes. "Cas…."

"Keep watching. Does it come out the other side of the fence and go under the bridge at the road?" He dropped the brightly colored package into the water, followed it with his eyes as it went into the drain, and heard Jo's pleased exclamation a few seconds later. He grinned, returning his attention to her. "Just stick the info in something that'll fit through the drain, keep it dry and still float, like an empty pill bottle or something and there you go. All they have to do is watch for it."

"Cas, you're a genius! Why the hell didn't we think of that before?"

"Because we were expecting something sophisticated. Even Dean was." His grin faded in degrees. "But how is she getting the information?"

"We've been over that too. Again and again to ad nauseam. While we're pretty sure it's her, there's no proof, no sign of wrong doing."

Cas rejoined her on the bridge, treading slowly across the wooden planks, his boots thumping. "Something simple again. Has to be. Some way she wouldn't get caught or wouldn't fear getting caught."

"Like what?"

"Who has access to the information ahead of time?"

Jo listed off everyone in the management team. Cas thought about it. The answer was there, he knew it. It was all coming together in his mind and he couldn't force it. If he forced it, it wasn't going to coalesce into anything coherent. So he waited, letting the names swirl in his thoughts like the piece of wood had swirled in the water. Who had what information and when?

"Not you, or me, or…." Suddenly, it was blindingly clear. Cas began to laugh. "Yes! Yes!" Turning, he picked Jo up, swung her around and planted a noisy kiss on her mouth. "I am good, Jo. I am so _good_ it's a sin how good I am."

"I'll agree you're good," She said, grasping his arms and smiling up at him. "Wanna put me down and share in what context you're referring to?"

Putting her down, he shook his head. "No. You're going to have to wait for the big reveal."

"Okay, Columbo."

"I don't really understand the reference," he admitted, "but this time I don't care. I need you to tell Chuck that Dean wants a raid tomorrow. Help him pick a place that has plenty of good places to hide outside, but don't tell him that's what you're doing. Get the lists of what we need and take the lists and location to Dean."

"Then what?"

"You go have a relaxing evening with Maggie or Alexis or someone."

"Cas. I'm not letting you do this by yourself."

"I want you out of the way in case something goes wrong. Please. Humor me. I can't lose you and Melanie both in the space of little more than a week." He could see she wasn't happy about being sidelined on this matter, but after a little convincing, she agreed to do it.

"I sure hope you know what you're doing."

"I do and I know what she's doing, too."

He watched Dean's cabin with binoculars like Dean had once watched his, saw Jo go inside and return a few minutes later. She headed off towards Maggie's cabin. Cas settled in to wait. If he was right, Nina would be along in a couple hours.

* * *

In his nightmare, Dean saw Sam before him, only it wasn't Sam at all, it was Lucifer, smug and taunting.

"You're a failure, Dean, but I don't need to point that out, do I? You start things you can't finish. It's like a broken record with you, skipping over and over the same sorry section. All your life you've been a failure."

He tried to fight him and couldn't make contact, flailing about, helpless in the twilight landscape.

"Couldn't finish high school, had to get a GED. You started relationships that failed and continue to fail because of you. Take Jo for instance. She's a fine woman, got a body on her that doesn't quit and she's smart, too, a real good catch. But you're so scared to feel something meaningful that you sabotaged any chance of anything with her. You're a dumb SOB, Dean. If you'd treated her even halfway decently she never would have left. You treated her like crap and now she's slutting it up with Castiel. And I do mean slutting. The things she lets him do…. Quite a number you did on her. She accepts his behavior as normal because of you. Did you realize that?"

He watched Lucifer pace in slow strides, graceful in a way Sam never had been. In these nightmares, the words were always the same variations of the theme of failure. Sometimes Lucifer talked about how badly Dean had failed Sam.

"You even started the Apocalypse very obligingly for the angels, then couldn't finish it like they wanted you to. You left them hanging, Dean. You left the _world_ hanging. Not that I'm complaining about that one, mind you. You must admit it's one of the highlights in your list of failures -- from a certain point of view." He smiled a gentle smile, waving a hand to punctuate his next words. "And this whole saving people thing? Ludicrous. Croatoan will reach you all eventually. All these people? They're just walking corpses. All you're doing is delaying the inevitable, and failing your way through that."

"You're lying," he spat.

"Am I? I don't need to lie. Think about it. Think about…" He tilted his head back, gaze drifting upwards to the dreary sky and back down to Dean. "Melanie. Yes, think of her. Now there's a gigantic failure in your big quest to save people." He tsked, shaking his head. "You got her killed. Such a shame. She'd become like a daughter to you and you were like a father to her those last months. She wanted so badly to please you. It's the reason she worked so hard towards independence. You wanted it for her and she tried, but you let her go on that raid and got her killed. You cared for her. How could you do that to her? It's all your fault she's gone."

"It wasn't my fault! Get out of my head!"

"It _was_ your fault. You put her in danger."

"No…."

Lucifer laughed. "Oh, I do like you Dean Winchester. How can I not? You set it all in motion to begin with."

"I didn't know," he protested in a moan.

"Ignorance is no excuse." He put his hands in his pants pockets, brows raising. "Be seeing you soon. And…Sam says 'hi'."

Dean woke with a gasp, shaking and sweating, certain it hadn't been a dream. Lucifer had just paid him a visit.

It registered immediately that there were people in his cabin and he scrambled from his bed, reaching for his gun. Only when he had it pointed at the intruders did he notice the scene before him. Nina was gagged and bound to a chair in the center of the room. Cas sat slightly to one side, a booted foot propped by her hip and a gun across his lap, waiting with an air of utmost patience for Dean to wake fully and speak.

Dean rubbed a hand across his face. His head felt encased in cotton and he peered as Castiel with a frown. "Cas?"

"Good morning, Dean." The reply was offensively cheerful, Cas's smirk a hair shy of smug.

"What're you doing here at the ass crack of dawn?" He put his gun aside. "And what's _she_ doing here? Gave her the heave-ho weeks ago."

"You know, I got to thinking. How would a woman like Nina go about getting information like that? I mean logically? You, me, Yeager, Jim, Chuck, Jo. We're really the only ones, right? The ones with the info? The ones she'd have to get the information from?"

"Yeah." Reaching for his robe, he drew it on and sat on the end of his bed, watching Nina struggle against her bonds. She looked both terrified and angry, a red welt across one cheek and bruises along her arms. Had Cas done that to her?

"I won't touch her with a ten-foot pole, Yeager can't stand her, Jim doesn't see any woman but Alexis, Jo hates her, and Chuck…. Well, Chuck and she have a love-to-hate each other thing going." He stretched a little. "Then I thought about it a little more. The locations we target aren't given out until we're going out the gates."

"That's right."

"So who has the locations before that?" His smirk deepened into a self satisfied grin. "You and Chuck, my friend, and she sure as hell wasn't banging Chuck for months."

Dean tried to make sense of Cas's words. "You don't think that I --"

"No, no of course not. How's your head, Dean? Feeling woozy?"

"A little," he admitted.

Cas fished a bottle from his pocket and held it up. "One dose of this in your food or drinks and you're pretty cooperative, going right to sleep after, oh, say half an hour or forty minutes. She liked to have a drink right away, didn't she?"

"Usually." She'd pour them a drink or let him pour one and sometimes they didn't bother with glasses. Other times she had those tiny bottles with her.

"When you were down for the count, she had all the time she needed to copy the info. There's your first how, Dean. She already admitted it all to me. Now, do you want to hear how she got it outside the camp, or would you rather hear the lovely present I've got ready for you?"

He saw the delight in Cas's eyes, his gaze glittering with fervent satisfaction and nodded. "By all means tell me what this present is. I'm all atwitter with anticipation."

Cas put his foot on the floor and leaned forward, arms on his thighs. "The scavengers. They'll be ready for you, Dean. Sitting ducks like we usually are. I had Jo arrange it. This raid…it's fake. They know we're planning on being at the location at two this afternoon, which gives you time to take a team, get in place, and wait for them to show up. Kill them all and then we deal with Nina. Them first, then her so there's no one left."

"When did you get so bloodthirsty?"

His features hardened, the tiniest bit of regret flitting across his face, his voice holding a trace of bitterness. "It's how you win a war, isn't it? Kill the enemy? Well, they're the enemy and they've had no compunction against killing us. Give them hell, Dean." Raising back up, he glanced at Nina. "I'll stay here and guard her. Make sure she's alive for the _trial_."

"Good work, Cas."

"I thought so." His brows raised. "You said to get answers, correct?"

Dean did recall yelling at him to do that. "You delivered."

"I usually do."

By nine, Dean had his team on the road. They had plenty of time to ready this part of the trap Cas had worked out.

* * *

Jo looked out at the crowd. Men, women, and children all clamoring for Nina's blood, salivating over her coming death. Because of her plotting, those people had lost family and friends, and while her death wouldn't bring them back, it was justice.

Dean had called a public forum after returning from the slaughter of the scavengers.

Jim told her it was a slaughter, too. While he'd hung back after the initial shots in order to cover everyone else, Dean had gotten right in there, killing until there was only one left, then demanding to be taken to the scavenger's camp. They'd killed them as well. Dean's team had exterminated an entire camp of people and Jo wasn't sure how she felt about that. She understood the reason for that and knew what would happen if any were left alive, but was it right? Was it morally right?

How far had they sunk into the gray areas of morality and how much further would they go? How much further would _Dean and Cas_ go, for she knew Cas had suggested it to begin with. Jo had never thought either man would condone killing an entire camp of people. Surely not all of the scavenger camp had known about the attacks?

"I'm open to suggestions," Dean called out. "What do we do with her?"

Nina's involvement had been chronicled, from her drugging Dean to her method of relaying the information. She'd even admitted to slipping the drug into the cup by Dean's bed the previous evening before he'd returned to his cabin. His habit of pouring a slug of whiskey into whatever liquid was there in that cup was well-known to her. She knew he'd do it like he did every night.

Dean's fury at that was undeniable and Jo saw his hands clench into tight fists during that part of her testimony.

Nina knew she was going to die. She knew that nothing she said was going to stay that and so she was brutally honest in what she'd done, laying it out in precise orderly steps, though her voice quivered and she became so pale that Jo thought she was going to faint.

Jo sensed the crowd gathering their hatred together. She could almost see that hate like a black seething cloud above them. Demanding a lynching would be next. She stepped forward, hurrying to give her suggestion and hoping it'd be taken. "Just shoot her. Right here, right now. Put a bullet in her and be done with it. Dump her body outside the fence a ways." It was a sensible decision, quick and easily handled.

Dean looked at her, a sneer of contempt pulling his lips and sarcasm in his voice. "And that's an appropriate punishment? Really, Jo? Did you not lose as many friends as the rest of us?"

Cas's hands were on her arms, dragging her back against him, pulling her behind Jim and Emily so she was out of Dean's line of sight. His voice was at her ear, barely loud enough to be heard over the angry din her suggestion garnered. "Do you really think anyone's rational enough for sensible action? Take a look at them, Jo. They want her blood and Dean's going to give it to them."

"It's not right. Just get it over with. It's sadistic to drag it out. It's not justice, Cas, it's being mean to be mean, hurting because she hurt us."

He didn't deny it. His arms went around her, keeping her from moving forward, imprisoning her against his body. Jo twisted, unable to break free. He wasn't going to let her get in the way of what was being planned.

She saw Alexis push through the crowd, voice strident and hard. "Take her out to a hot zone and shove her out the back of the truck."

The suggestions got bloodier and bloodier, Nina's face paling further, but in the end it was decided to let her out near a zone and make her walk into it under threat of a firing squad.

Jo wondered how many of them would 'accidentally' fire.

Cas held on to her until all but Dean and the bound and now gagged Nina remained. Only then did he release her slowly. Jo moved away from him and towards Nina, skirting by Dean and not quite making it past him. He grabbed her arm, hand gripping tightly and pulling her to him.

"You got a problem, Jo?"

"You drew it out deliberately. You riled them up."

Something shifted in his eyes and right then, Dean wasn't a man she even wanted to know. "She needed to squirm."

Jo wrenched her arm from his grasp, gasping a little when his fingers pinched before releasing her fully. "Dick."

He shook his head. "And how would you have handled it, hmm? A quick shot without letting anyone have their say? Please. She needed to feel the fear, to hear just what these people think of her actions. Am I having her skinned alive like Emily suggested? Am I letting them tie her up and light her on fire? No. I'm taking her out near a zone and letting her out."

"And who's going to shoot her in the back as she walks away?"

"That's not the plan."

"But you know it'll happen."

"So what if it does? Who here is going to cry for that? You? Are you going to cry over _Nina_? Seriously?" He raked his gaze down her and back up. "It's like I don't really know you anymore."

She could say the same about him.

She and Cas spent the night guarding Nina, taking turns at the door. Jo made sure she got a final meal and tried to coax her into getting some rest. Nina refused.

"It's not like I won't rest forever after tomorrow," she reasoned.

"Why did you do it, Nina? Did you even have a reason? I don't understand why you'd do something like that. You had a life here, a decent one compared to out there. Why jeopardize it?"

She leaned over a little, glance flicking to Cas as though making sure he was too far away to listen. "He picked me personally, sent me here for that purpose, Jo. Told me to find Dean Winchester, seduce him, and send out any information that might potentially cripple his efforts to survive. He was very specific on how I was to behave to get and keep Dean's interest and said I was to do both as long as I could. If I got caught and they asked me why, I was to say that Sam told me to. Said it with a little grin, like it was an inside joke. I don't know who Sam is, but obviously it was supposed to mean something to Dean."

Jo knew who. Sam? It had to be Lucifer. "You don't know who Sam is? Dean never mentioned him?"

"Not in my hearing, but then we never were much for that getting-to-know-you small talk. I know a lot about what he likes in bed and very little otherwise. It never seemed too important to really get to know him outside the bedroom. Why? Who's Sam to him?"

Jo didn't answer the question, trying instead to understand what Nina had just told her. If Lucifer knew their location, why hadn't he come in and wiped them out? What was he waiting for? "But why even do what he wanted? Did he promise you something?"

"He said my reward for doing this would be more than I could ever imagine."

"You do know you're going to die tomorrow, right? There's no reward, Nina. He lied."

Nina shrugged. "My job is done. I did what he asked of me and I _will_ be rewarded. He promised and I believe him. I may not get my reward here on earth, but I will on the other side. He said so. He was so beautiful, Jo, so powerful. How could I not believe him with the things he showed me?"

She wouldn't say another word, apparently hanging on to that promise Lucifer had made to her. Jo almost felt sorry for her for that.

The morning was bright and clear, a team of fifteen taking Nina out towards a hot zone. Jo hadn't wanted to go, riding with them only because Dean told her to. He wanted her there as a show of leadership solidarity after her 'unreasonable' suggestion the previous day, claiming that it would protect her against any backlash if she at least appeared to be going along with Nina's punishment. How her suggestion had been in any way unreasonable was beyond her.

Jo got out of the truck and shut the door. Dean came around and stood beside her while two men went to get Nina from the back of the other truck and the rest of the men and women lined up on the road.

He crossed his arms and leaned down to speak in her ear. "All nice and civilized, Jo."

"So far," she admitted. "Except for yesterday."

"The people didn't want nice yesterday. They wanted to voice their frustration and anger and have the illusion they had a voice in her sentence. I gave them that."

"I thought yesterday was about making her squirm." She raised a brow at him.

He returned the gesture, "Maybe it was about all of that," then stood up tall once more.

Nina was dragged around the back of the second truck and shoved towards them. Her wrists had been freed of the handcuffs. "You're going to just leave me out here," she asked, looking up at Dean.

The line of men and women raised their guns. Jo could see the desire to shoot Nina on their faces.

Dean leaned back against the truck. "Sure am. You think anyone here gives a damn about you? You got good men and women killed for no reason."

"Please," she pleaded. "At least give me a way to protect myself against the Croats. A knife, _something_."

"No dice, sweetheart. Get walking."

She turned and began to walk, her steps slow and dragging. Jo saw her shoulders hunch and looked away, hating how Dean and the others were dragging this out. They should have just shot her and been done with it, but no, the camp wanted her to suffer before she died.

It was Alexis who snapped, taking several steps forward, aiming, and firing before anyone would stop her. Nina went down with barely a sound, lying still and facedown on the blacktop, shot in the back like Jo had predicted. When Alexis turned to them, her mouth was trembling. "She deserved hell sooner rather than later. I hope they tear her soul apart."

Dean moved to her, taking the gun from her. "Oh they will. Believe me, Alexis, they'll work her over until there's nothing left and then they'll put her back together and start all over. They'll keep breaking her until there's nothing to break."

"Good."

Jo wept a little in the truck on the way back, not for Nina, but for the people she knew and the way they'd all changed. She kept her face averted and turned away so Dean wouldn't notice. She didn't care to hear the sort of mocking words that she knew would leave his lips.

Everything was changing.

There was no escaping that death was everywhere now. Even the fish in the lake a little ways down the highway had all died, floating to the surface of the water, stinking up the air.

Under the constant tension and threats from the outside, the carefully cultivated structure of the camp began to crack. The optimism that everything was going to get better faded, strain showing in the set of shoulders and in worried faces. The survivors they did find were now more hardened than the original ones. There were no good times coming, no rescue from their lives.

Even the children stopped laughing -- what few children there were.

She watched people go about their daily tasks with an air of hopelessness. The general overall mood was despair. Lucifer had to be eating it all up and relishing what he'd accomplished. Jo still wondered why he didn't come for them. What was his plan? Was it the same one Dean and the others had enacted on Nina -- to let them twist and turn and suffer until the very bitter, terrible end of it all?

While still a refuge, the camp was showing it's worn state. The buildings needed paint and not all of the needed repairs got done. The grass was mowed only occasionally and many of those feel-good normal activities that had been in place months earlier were gone. There were no more movies for children or Saturday night campfires as a group. Things like that became solitary endeavors.

It was as though Melanie's death heralded in a new era, one where innocence was completely gone and there was only the growing dark around the edges of their lives to look forward to.


	20. Chapter 20

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 20  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

While Jo knew Cas still loved her, their relationship had been changing again for weeks. Gone was the sense of calm he'd had, of being centered. In the place of that was a growing desperation and despair that he tried to mask from her, going through the motions of each day.

As though she didn't know him well enough by now to see the difference. He thought she couldn't see that he was hanging on by the barest thread and that the thread was fraying.

His depression grew, finally reaching a point inside him that Jo couldn't soothe. She was no longer the anesthetic that got him through the night. He never admitted it, still insisting she stay in his cabin, but she noticed he never said a word when she accidentally fell asleep in her cabin, not waking until morning. He'd slept alone for the first time in nearly two years.

Either he no longer felt panic for sleep or he no longer cared if he did, so high he didn't notice she wasn't there.

Cas's group of women undertook a change as well. With Alexis and Maggie's withdrawal -- the last of that group she'd mothered --, he no longer made those deeper emotional connections with the women.

Like Dean.

Jo would sit in her cabin and cry for the two of them, so alike in their emotional reactions, and yet so different at the same time. Dean embraced emptiness, all of the compassion and mercy he'd previously shown gone. He'd put a lid on it and locked it away for good. He might as well be dead inside.

As for Cas, he was the same as he'd been on the outside, very good now at putting on a show, but was just as gone as Dean on the inside, screaming, barely holding it together, and attempting anything to try to stop the pain that only kept growing.

It tore her up to see them like that and there was not a thing she could do about it. Neither really wanted her help anymore.

So she did the best she could, trying to make sense and order for the camp out of Dean's cold, increasingly harsh policies, and trying to keep Castiel together.

Maybe if they'd had depression meds for Cas, it'd help, but those were gone and had been unavailable for months. All he had were those pills he'd stashed, and the liquor and pot, his daily doses increasing as his body adjusted.

Sometimes Jo wondered what Jimmy thought of all of it, or was he in the same place as Cas? Had despair taken Jimmy into it's cold embrace as well?

On top of that, Jo suddenly became ill.

* * *

Cas woke to the sound of someone throwing up. It wasn't a quiet retching, but one of agonizing force, of someone unable to hold it back, moaning a little with each loud heave. Sweeping an arm out, he patted the bed beside him. Jo wasn't there, the sheets cool where she usually slept. Tossing aside the covers, he got up to investigate, expecting to see Jo helping someone in the bathroom.

It was Jo on the floor by the toilet. She was the one throwing up.

He went to her, kneeling behind her and wrapping an arm about her waist. She wiped her mouth with a cloth, her hand shaking, and leaned back against him, sobbing.

"Nothing comes up," she gasped, "not even bile, but it won't stop!"

He held her, and as she heaved, he pretended it was anyone but her because Jo didn't get sick and if she was? Something was really wrong. During a lull in the spasms he asked, "Is today the first day you've thrown up?"

Jo drew her legs up, shaking her head and leaning against him. "No."

"How long?"

Her body quivered. "Nearly a week now."

She had a few body aches, though those could be from how hard she was throwing up, a fever, not high, but raised enough to be called a fever, and she slept. Hours and hours during the days, she slept.

A cold, hard knot of dread grew inside him the longer she was sick.

* * *

The part Jo hated the most about being sick was the puking. She hated to throw up. It made her feel weak and helpless to do so, not to mention the force of it each time left her body hurting. Her abs felt like she'd been doing hundreds of crunches without pause -- which she guessed was the case. She was unable to keep anything down save the blandest of foods, her stomach rolling at even a whiff of strong food orders. For the first couple weeks, she tried to hide the nausea, but it soon grew too much for her to keep a secret. Morning, noon, and night she was nauseated.

She got worse during the third week, feeling feverish at all hours. Exhaustion tugged at her and it wasn't unusual for her to sleep in the afternoons -- and the mornings and evenings. She joked to Alexis and Maggie that she'd developed narcolepsy.

The truth was, Jo just felt weird and with no real doctor anymore, she had no one to go to for her symptoms.

In an attempt to help, Chuck tried to diagnose her one day. He sat on the couch while Jo laid on the bed, a large medical book open on his lap, flipping back and forth through the pages. "So…any seizures?" He glanced up. "How about sleep paralysis? Hallucinations? Have you talked to people and don't remember it?"

Jo smiled, unable to resist the obvious joke. "Hey, what're you doing here, Chuck? When did you get here?"

He stared at her, uncertainty in his eyes. "Are you…are you joking?"

She lifted her head up a little off the pillow to see him better, "yup," then laid back down.

"Oh, not funny, Jo. So not funny. Don't do that to me. Dean thinks things like that are funny too and they're just not." He shook his head and returned his stare to the book. "How about this one? Are you having headaches?"

"No." She curled up tighter on her side, swallowing hard and trying not to look at the bucket on the floor by her side of the bed. "No headaches. Not unless you count the pounding in my temples after heaving."

"Hmmm." He frowned. "Nausea, really sleepy, no headaches…yeah, it's not that, let me look under…." He flipped pages again, pausing on one entry, his glance flicking to her and back to the page, indecision all over his face. "Have you…um…I don't think I can ask you this. It's kind of personal."

"What?"

"I'm not trying to be overly personal, Jo --"

"Chuck, spit it out. I'll answer whatever you want."

"Have you missed a, um, a _you_ know?"

"I don't know. A what? Have I missed a…" She slowly pushed herself to a sitting position. "Oh, you mean my period. Have I missed a period?"

Chuck cringed, eyes squeezing shut. "Don't say it, Jo. It's icky woman stuff. It's just…do you think you could possibly maybe be…I don't know…um," He raised a hand, rubbing his head with his hand. "…pregnant? I mean, you and Cas have been together for a long time now and I know we've had to go to alternate methods since we quit finding the pill…."

Jo thought about it. "No, no. I haven't skipped a period. It's been business as usual, light, but there. I've got it right now as a matter of --"

"Oh, geez, I don't need to know that! Come on, Jo!"

"You asked, I answered."

"I didn't ask if you've got it now! That's way more information than I needed to know."

She shook her head. "It's got to be something else. Besides, we always use protection." She changed position, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. "Never mind, it's the flu. It has to be. It's lingering, that's all. I'll be fine in a few days."

"It's _not_ the flu, Jo. No one else is sick. No one else has _been_ sick."

She considered a few other things they could check and asked, "Well, what are the symptoms for an ulcer? Let's look at that. Cas keeps suggesting it."

They got nowhere, Chuck turning redder and redder as they tried to pinpoint what could possibly be wrong with her, finally giving up altogether.

Cas was concerned for her, suggesting and insisting that maybe she was reacting to the increasing tension in the camp. It was a nice, logical suggestion if she'd ever had such a reaction before, but she hadn't. Jo wasn't the type, but she understood his need to suggest it. He refused to consider it might be something serious because serious meant he could lose her too. Castiel ignored it, treating her like she was delicate.

He treated her the way he'd once treated Melanie.

* * *

After leaving Jo, Chuck continued to try to diagnose her, spending the following week with the medical book in front of him wherever he was. He was in supplies, going through the systemic symptoms of cancer -- weight loss, fatigue -- when Dean snatched the book away and hefted it up to look at it.

"Finally going to get that medical degree, Chuck?"

"I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with Jo."

"What are all her symptoms?" He raised a brow. "I only looked in on her. Didn't stay to hear the whole list."

Chuck moved a few papers around on the desk. "She throws up a lot, says she's nauseated most of the time, is losing weight, sleeps constantly…."

Dean pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. "She skip her monthly?"

He shuddered. It was bad enough hearing Jo talk about it matter-of-factly, but for Dean to? Ugh. Chuck would rather remain ignorant of those things. "She says no, that it's, um, light but there. I can't believe she told me that."

"How light? Light as in a tiny sprinkle or as in normal."

He frowned, looking up at Dean, thoroughly grossed out by the conversation. "I didn't ask. That's just too personal. The whole topic is too personal."

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"I'm not one, Dean."

His lips twitched and Dean flipped a few pages, apparently finding what he was looking for, for he ran a finger down the page. "Light, but there. Probably means next to nothing knowing Jo." He closed the book with a firm thump. "She's pregnant." Dean said the word in a disgusted tone.

"No, no, she says no, that she can't be."

"She's been boffing Cas for months, Chuck. That means she can be. She is. Like it's not the obvious diagnosis that comes to mind."

"But…."

Dean sighed, impatience in his eyes. "Is she having pains aside from those caused by tossing her cookies all the time?"

"No."

"Then I wouldn't be too concerned. Watch her and if she starts having pains, her bleeding is constant or at least heavier than barely visible to the human eye, then we start to worry. She's fine. She's only pregnant and I have other things to worry about than that, like a camp full of people who need supplies."

It was an obvious attempt to steer Chuck towards the supply lists, but he wasn't sure Dean should be dismissing Jo's health so quickly. "Barely visible? How do you know that? She never said --"

Dean dropped the book onto the table and leaned down. "Let me explain something. Bear with me through the ickiness factor you seem to have for this. Most women would want to shoot Jo for how easy she has it every month. Four days, tops, with nothing more severe than the occasional bit of moodiness. She has no headaches, backaches, or other symptoms that usually turn women into demons from hell for a week. When she says it's light, but there, it means it's barely visible. Trust me. When you spend nearly a year with a woman, you get to know the way her body works on those matters."

"Oh." He glanced away. "I didn't need to know any of that."

"For future reference."

"When would I need to reference that?"

"Just in case." He tapped the desk with one fist. "You got those lists ready for me or has Jo's reproductive system taken precedence today?"

Chuck reached for a sheaf of papers and handed them over. He thought about what Dean had said and decided to ask Maggie her opinion. She seemed to have a pretty good grasp of medical matters.

Somehow, he was unsurprised when she agreed with Dean.

"She's been too miserable to really think about it, Chuck. Trust me. When you're that sick in the beginning, the flu sure sounds like a great diagnosis because that means it'll be over soon. Anything sounds good except the possibility that it could go on until labor." Maggie stretched out on his bed, hands under her head and ankles crossed. "Give her a week or so and she'll connect it all."

But a week passed and Jo didn't. Neither did Castiel. They were both unaware that Jo was probably pregnant and Chuck didn't know how to break it to Jo. Should he even be the one to? He could understand Cas not realizing she was pregnant because there were still things Cas sometimes didn't understand about humans, but surely Jo was in touch with her body -- or however it was Maggie had put it. Surely she knew it was a possibility?

As the days went by, Chuck decided Jo was in denial, willfully ignoring the truth. He kept expecting her to suddenly understand what her symptoms meant. If it went on, _someone_ was going to have to tell her.

He really didn't want it to have to be him.

* * *

By the fourth week, Jo made the decision to move into her cabin full-time so Cas wouldn't catch whatever it was trying to get a foothold in her. It had to be the flu, she kept telling herself. It couldn't be anything else. All the other ideas were ridiculous.

Cas ignored her illness and told her she was beautiful when she knew she looked like hell: hair limp and damp with sweat, dark circles under her eyes, and hollows in her cheeks from the weight she was losing. He was being sweet, bringing her crackers if they had any and making sure she had water and anything she could need when he wasn't there.

She had visitors most days. Alexis and Maggie would come with board games and decks of cards to distract her. Chuck would look in at her and ask if anything had changed. Emily brought foods she thought Jo might be able to keep down. Risa popped in every couple days and Jim brought her books to read.

The one person who didn't visit was Dean. He'd looked in on her once, staying only a few minutes before excusing himself. She wondered if he cared even a little that she was sick. They didn't appear to even be friends anymore. Friends checked to see how you were and he didn't. She supposed he could be asking the others, like she knew he'd done those first weeks after she'd arrived in the camp. Was he that busy that he couldn't come by for a minute? His absence hurt.

Jo laid on her bed, enjoying a brief respite from the nausea. She knew it'd be brief. Call it intuition. She couldn't wait to feel better and kept hoping it'd be soon. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.

There was a knock on the door. It opened before she could call out, Castiel stepping inside. "Hey, you're awake."

"For the moment. I've been alternating sleeping and puking hourly today. It's a nice change of schedule."

"I was planning on sneaking in and being here when you woke." He came to her, sauntering slowly, weaving just a little.

Jo eased up so he could join her on the bed. "Look at me?" Taking his face in her hands, she noted he was a bit more stoned than usual. "What'd you take today, sweetheart?"

"A little of this, a little of that, and something extra to grow on." He caught her to him, maneuvering them so that they lay together on the bed, facing each other.

She almost ignored it, but changed her mind. She'd already ignored a lot regarding his drug use. "Wanna tone down the this, that, and the extra, Cas? For me? Please? It worries me when you take combos like this."

"Jo." He grinned. "I'm fine."

"But you might not be if you keep taking combinations of pills and booze --"

"I'm fine." He drew his hand along her side. "Look at me. I walked in here under my own steam, I'm coherent…. I'm just a little stoned. It's no big deal."

"Please, Cas."

He sighed, rolling onto his back. "I'll think about it."

Jo could hear a hint of pain in his voice and dropped the subject. There would be time another day to talk to him about it.

* * *

She was going to die.

That thought was an ever-present fear in Castiel's mind. It consumed his waking hours. To see her so sick when she was the healthiest woman he knew sent him running to any escape he could find when he wasn't with her.

Pills. Booze. More pills. One woman. A little more booze. Two women. And so on.

When he was with her, he tried not to show his fear. He held her hair from her face when she threw up what little she'd managed to eat, bathed her face with a cool cloth, and curved his body about hers when she napped. The heat pouring from her body scared him. The weight she lost terrified him. The amount of sleep she needed alarmed him.

And yet, despite it all, she still managed to be beautiful and serene. She just didn't _look_ sick to him, but what else could it be?

He would lie there with her and simply stare at her, committing her to memory for that inevitable day when he lost her, too. Castiel didn't think he could bear it. While they'd had their rocky patches, she'd stayed by him, persevering through everything, putting up with what he'd become.

She got steadily worse, one month turning into two, and then…she got better. Miraculously, wonderfully better. He breathed a sigh of relief. Things would go back to normal now.

* * *

Thankfully, after two months of it, Jo began to feel better. The nausea eased, her stomach settling so that her appetite returned with a vengeance. She was still a little tired and now both hot and hungry all the time, but she felt better overall. She thought she was on the mend, that she'd licked whatever it was. It was about time. Two months was a long time to be sick.

When Jo finally emerged from her cabin for more than a couple hours at a time, strangely energetic after being so alarmingly sick, she found a camp she no longer recognized. While she'd known they'd had more deaths, she hadn't realized how many. She knew only a handful of people apart from Dean, Cas, and Chuck: Alexis, Maggie, Jim, Emily, Jane, Risa, and Yeager. The rest were strangers she'd never seen before, people who didn't know her or her prior relationship to Dean.

The young women she saw seemed to assume she was just another of Cas's women. There was no distinction to them between themselves and her.

She found Dean pursuing Risa with his sorry old 'connection' line, and saw his eye already straying from Risa to Jane -- who didn't seem to mind the possibility of being the other woman. He was doing the same thing Castiel did -- trying anything to have some sort of good feeling.

Jo watched Risa's features soften when Dean was around and hated that she knew that softness would soon be gone, because she really did like Risa. She thought Risa could have made Dean happy once. And Risa herself deserved a bit of happiness. She'd been through a lot on the outside and come through it stronger.

Maggie actively pursued Chuck, finally acting on those flirtatious comments and gestures she'd been tossing out since she'd left Cas's group of women. Jo wondered if that interest in him was why she'd left. It was amusing to watch Chuck blush and stammer, as though he couldn't believe Maggie liked him.

It wasn't only people changed, it was policies as well, undergoing yet another hard shift. Dean's well-ordered, civilized camp was a thing of the past. People simply existed in the sphere of the guidelines Dean put forth, or they left for the outside. The camp focus was no longer survival, but rather the Colt. While he'd been looking for it for years, Dean's passion for finding the Colt had turned obsessive sometime during the two months Jo was sick and was consuming them all.

There was even an order to capture demons and take them to Dean for questioning.

How did he question them and know they weren't lying?

She soon got her answer when a hot-shot demon of some sort was captured.

Jo waited to talk to Cas until he was mellow and more than willing to talk as long as she sat on his lap while he did. Still, it took awhile to extract the information she wanted and once he'd explained, Jo sat stunned by what he'd told her.

"He's torturing them."

"He sure is," Cas replied absently, as though it didn't matter, his amorous impulses taking over. His lips nibbled a path along her neck, his hands slipping beneath her shirt. He undid her bra, cupped her breasts. "You've gotten bigger," he murmured. "I like it."

"It's where I put the weight back on." There and along her hips. It was a struggle to fasten her jeans these days. Jo drew away, endeavoring to refasten her bra. He had a great fascination with that redistribution of weight on her body, spending long minutes just kissing and caressing her breasts, over and over, then running his hands along her hips. He'd talk forever about how beautiful she was. Like now. If she didn't stop him now, she'd get distracted herself. "Cas, stop. Is he torturing it _now_?"

"Probably. Why?"

"Torture is wrong. I don't care if it is a demon."

He shrugged. "Hey, I tried to talk him out of it, but as he quickly reminded me, he's our leader and if I don't like his methods at this point in the game, I should stage a coup and do it myself. I declined, so it's not really my concern anymore, is it?"

"No, sweetie, it's not. As second, supposedly, it's mine." Jo moved away, put her clothes back in order and gave him a kiss. "I'm going to have a talk with him about this. Torture is unacceptable. I can't let him keep doing that."

"Good luck with that. You won't change his mind." He sounded so certain.

"Thanks, Cas, for that ringing encouragement."

"No problem. I'll wait here."

Jo headed for the area she knew Dean was keeping the demon. It was back from the rest of the camp, isolated. A perfect place to torture because few people would hear the screams unless they were listening for them. The building was quiet.

Torture. Oh, geez.

She hadn't actually minded being Dean's second-in-command, mostly because he never had much for her to do. But torture? When had it become acceptable? When had he made that decision and why hadn't he said anything to her?

Did she really want to go in there? Did she want to see just how far Dean had gone?

No. But she had to.

Steeling herself, Jo opened the door and stepped inside.


	21. Chapter 21

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 21  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.

* * *

The odor that assailed Jo's nostrils was a rank mélange of blood, feces, sulfur, and burned flesh. Her stomach rolled in queasy waves and she gagged from the stench, one hand covering her mouth.

"If you're gonna puke, go outside," Dean told her in a gruff voice.

To her left, the body that had hosted the demon hung from chains. If the stench was bad, the sight was far worse. Jo saw bloody stripes on the naked chest and stomach, one section of skin flayed away, and other burned places that were blistered and charred. She hoped to God the host was dead and gone before Dean had started in on the demon. Blood still dripped from the wounds, indicating that Dean had only recently finished his task.

To her right, his back to her, was Dean, slowly, methodically cleaning the instruments he'd used to torture. The smell didn't seem to bother him.

"Did you get what you wanted from him," she managed to ask. The smell seemed to permeate the inside of her mouth when she opened it to speak and she swallowed another, more forceful gag.

"I got what I needed."

"You persuaded him," she prompted.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, raking his gaze over her. "I did. He talked. Eventually."

Jo stared at him, stepping closer until she could glimpse his profile. "How long have you been," she raised her brows, "_persuading_ the demons we've caught?"

Dean picked up a long, wicked looking knife, began to clean it with a nonchalant air. "A few months."

"How many is a few?" He hadn't shaved, his jaw rough with stubble. Studying him, Jo realized there was a harder edge to his features than the last time she'd really looked at him, and a lack of any emotional warmth. He really did look like the psychopath she'd once heard him called.

He glanced at her again, chuckled. "Why? Are you concerned about the rights of demons? You want to be a demon advocate? They _have_ no rights. No right to life, liberty, or the pursuit of happiness. No right to a fair trial or an exemption from justice duly meted out according to their deeds."

"And what about the hosts, Dean? The hosts are people like you and me."

His hands slowed in cleaning the knife. "Wrong. They _were_ people. You think the demons are letting their hosts go these days? Not a lot of potential hosts out there anymore. They have to hold on to the ones they have. The people inside are gone no matter what."

Jo shook her head. "You're torturing them. Dean, I can't sanction that. Not torture. It's wrong and it doesn't matter whether it's demons or not. Wrong is wrong. There's a line that you don't cross and if you do cross it, then you're no better than -- "

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter if you do sanction it or not. You're not in charge."

"I can't act as your second-in-command if you take this path. I was hesitant to agree when we dealt with Nina, but now --"

"This path is already taken. Deal."

"Then I quit."

He turned, the knife he'd been cleaning gleaming in the light as he pointed it at her. "You quit? Yeah, that's your m.o., isn't it? When the going gets really tough and it's time to make the big decisions, little Jo can't hack it. You can't go that necessary mile. Like with Nina."

"This is morally wrong!" This conversation wasn't going any way near how she'd thought it might go. Cas was turning out to be very right. She wasn't going to change Dean's mind.

His laugh was ugly and hard and he took a few steps towards her, still pointing the knife at her, using it to punctuate his words. "Look around you. Do you see any morality left? Do you see what _is_ left? How about Cas, your boyfriend, or whatever you're calling him? Do you see him? That's not Castiel out there, Jo. It hasn't been Castiel in years. He's just Cas, drowning himself in sex and drugs, taking the feel good path in an attempt to ignore what's coming. Do you see the people out there, broken and bleeding, dying a little more each day? Or how about a planet mostly gone around us? It's the law of the jungle now, Jo. Get Lucifer before he gets us. All those big decisions."

He advanced, the knife waving. Jo retreated towards the door.

"You quit? Fine. I don't need you much longer anyway. See, it'll all be over soon."

"What do you mean by that?" There was a sliver of fear rising inside her the longer he pointed that knife in her direction. He looked as though he could cut her up and not even care. She glanced at the door behind her, wondering if she could flee before he came any closer.

"I found it. _It_." His teeth snapped together with a click, like a trap snapping shut. "The Colt. All I have to do is go pick it up when it passes by. And then…it'll all be over." He threw the knife back towards the table. The point stuck in the wood. "So go back to Cas. Run back to him, have some absinthe and pop some pills if you think it's safe, then let him sex you up from morning to night. Anesthetize that pain." His tone was mocking, cruel, gaze dropping to her stomach. "Hide your pretty little head in the sand until I finish this."

"Dean." Her knees felt weak, legs shaking. She felt like she was going to collapse. Jo reached back for the door handle, groping at the panel.

"If you can't be on board with my decisions, then you're useless to me."

"I can't."

He stared at her, contempt bleeding into his eyes. "Then get out of my sight and stay out of it. I don't want to see you anymore."

The statement hurt more than if he'd actually taken the knife to her flesh. He was dismissing her from his presence. "Dean," she began, her voice breaking on his name.

"You deaf, Jo? I said get out. Go hide in your cabin, or Cas's. I really don't care which, but you'd damn well better keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way. You've been useless to me for months and I'm tired of it. You come in here whining and complaining about how I'm running things, when you haven't been involved?" He no longer looked her in the eyes, staring instead at her stomach, as though she disgusted him too much to bother looking at her face.

"I was sick --" The protestation didn't even make him pause. He continued like she hadn't even begun to speak.

"When I'm done with Lucifer and it's all over, I expect you to go. I want you gone from my camp when it's done. Do you understand me, Jo? You'll take yourself and your…. You'll go."

Herself and her what? She swallowed hard, fighting back tears, hearing a fury in his voice that she didn't understand. This wasn't Dean, couldn't be Dean. "Yes," she whispered.

For a second there was silence and then, "Get out."

Jo pushed from the building and ran until she collapsed to the ground.

It was Maggie who came looking for her much later; Maggie who held her while she cried; Maggie who said that if Dean tossed Jo from camp, that he'd be surprised by who would go with her: Maggie, Jim, Emily, Alexis. Maybe more. Maggie didn't mention Cas. They both knew he probably wouldn't leave the camp.

Maggie smoothed Jo's hair with a gentle hand. "It could be months before the gun passes by anyway and by then, I'm sure Dean will have cooled down. He's just tense right now. He's always tense when he's questioned a demon. Most people won't go near him for hours after he's done and you were in there right after."

"No," Jo shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "He meant it, Maggie. He really meant it. It's like he hates me now and I don't even know what I did. The first couple weeks I was sick, he was fine. He came once to see me, but then he stopped and now…." She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't understand. The way he is…I don't know if I'd want to stay even, despite the danger outside."

"He'll soften. By the time you're actually ready…." She clasped Jo's hands in hers. "He'll have a change of heart. He will. Men get weird sometimes."

"Maybe."

But if Dean did make her leave, where would she go?

* * *

Every time Dean tortured a demon, he hated himself. No one could possibly hate him more than he did immediately after he was finished. He imagined if he looked in the mirror then, that every little bit of ugly inside him that had festered and turned gangrenous over the months was displayed upon his face. For hours afterward, he felt like his body and mind seethed with a rage he couldn't release, that he could only drag it back inside him to fester some more.

Releasing it led to pain, his and others.

There was a reason people didn't approach him after, a reason Jo discovered when he watched himself, in a detached way, turn that self-hate onto Jo.

She made him so blazing mad the way she was behaving, as though nothing was different. He was actually seeing a red haze to his vision anymore when he saw her traipsing along, acting like she wasn't pregnant when it was obvious she was. Talk about head in the sand behavior. From what Dean could tell, she hadn't even told Cas yet.

It was irresponsible. What the hell was wrong with her?

And so when she came in and began to question his actions, he reacted.

He wasn't really going to put Jo from the camp. Not Jo. Or her baby. That wasn't the plan. Not that Dean had a plan for Jo. He just wanted to knock some sense into her head before it was too late, make her see that she needed to plan. He wouldn't make them leave or hurt them unless they were infected. But Jo needed a good scare. She needed to think about what could happen out there.

She _needed_ to get with the program.

Dean didn't tell anyone she'd quit. Why should he? She'd be back once she'd thought things through and realized he was right. They did what they had to and that was that. He'd give her a week, maybe two, tops, before she came to see him and admitted that he really did have the more practical approach to the world they lived in than she did.

Cool, calm action was best. No emotional crap was best. Torturing demons was fine because they were only demons.

She'd see things his way.

Jo was too emotional right now, too compassionate to the enemy. She needed to toughen up. For awhile, her approach had worked fine. Dean was willing to admit that. Yet since things had worsened, her ways weren't effective. His were. People and demons knew Dean Winchester meant business.

He got the job done and he'd continue to do so right up until the world was back on track.

Dean was confident that Jo would see it his way. A couple weeks was all she'd need to see it.

* * *

In a camp as small as theirs, it took great skill to avoid Dean, but Jo managed it. She had to laugh in sad humor upon realizing she was behaving the way Melanie had In the beginning -- running and hiding from Dean. Jo had never thought she'd see the day when Dean frightened her like that.

That loathing on his face haunted her.

She didn't bother telling Cas what had happened, avoiding the topic when he'd asked about her chat with Dean. All she told him was that he'd been right. He didn't care to know more. That ability he'd once had to see her emotional hurts was gone. All he saw anymore were his own. He was in his own little world these days, where various pleasures hid his pains away and everything was fine and dandy. He'd go along with just about anything.

She missed the Castiel she'd fallen in love with.

Six days after her clash with Dean, Jo took laundry duty because it'd put her on the other side of camp from where he was supposed to be all day. She didn't mind taking it over for other people, looking forward to dozing in a chair while the washers and dryers ran. She filled all but two washers and sat down.

Risa came in and began to fill a washer. As she worked, she looked over at Jo. "You know, you're either the gutsiest, bravest woman I know or the dumbest."

"That's a nice conversation opener, Risa."

"Well, I sure as hell couldn't do it, especially with the damn Apocalypse outside our fence."

"Do what?" She froze in her chair.

Risa turned, stared at her a moment, then shrugged. "Okay. We won't talk about it. Sorry I mentioned it. Most women want to talk about it, but if you don't, we won't."

"No Risa, I don't _know_ what you're talking about." But she did, didn't she? Risa was talking about the frightening thing Jo had just begun to see about herself.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction and when she spoke her words were slow and drawn out. "I mean your pregnancy."

She swallowed. "I'm not pregnant." Her tongue stumbled over the word. Chuck had suggested that, too. And Maggie had been talking about babies for weeks, showing Jo the books they had in the camp that dealt with babies and pregnancy, leaving them in Jo's cabin, asking if she'd read them yet. Maggie was enthusiastic and positive about something that scared Jo worse than anything outside their camp. "I'm not. I can't be."

"Right. Like I said, if you don't want to talk about it --"

"Risa. I'm not pregnant. Why do you think I am? I mean, I haven't skipped a period and that's the major sign." Or hadn't until this past month. She'd missed it altogether.

Risa laughed, shook her head, and crossed her arms. "Uh…because it's obvious. You have the other symptoms, Jo."

"I'm not," she protested, hearing desperation in her tone.

"Sure. You were just nauseas and tired for two months for no reason."

Jo drew her legs up, wrapping her arms around them, hugging them to her chest. She wasn't pregnant. Couldn't be. It was the wrong time to be pregnant. In a world like theirs? Not a good idea. "It went away. The nausea and exhaustion, I mean. I'm fine, I'm okay. I'm not…."

Pregnant.

She was pregnant.

Her face felt hot, her chest like someone was squeezing it, her stomach as though it was flipping over inside her.

"I get it, okay? Not a topic you want to discuss."

A million things she needed to do ran through her mind, from telling Cas, to doing that reading Maggie wanted her to do, and Jo's mind rebelled, pushing everything but the main fact away.

She really was pregnant.

There'd be time to look at all of those other things later.

* * *

Risa continued to observe Jo out of the corner of her eye. Was it possible Jo didn't _know_ she was pregnant? The more Risa mused over it, the more she thought that was the case. Jo had no idea she was pregnant. A bizarre idea. Risa found it hard to believe a woman couldn't know she was pregnant, but she supposed it was possible. Well, Jo knew now. And if what Risa had heard about Castiel's origin was true, he probably didn't realize it either.

Dean, though, had connected the dots, expressing frustration that Jo hadn't told Castiel or _anyone_ about her condition. He said she was being irresponsible, not taking her situation seriously. It infuriated him and Risa wasn't really sure why it bothered him so much. Jo wasn't _his_ girlfriend.

Maybe it was just that they'd have to do some planning within the camp to care for a baby? Risa sorted the last of the items she had and pondered that possibility. Not too many pregnant women running around. She knew there had to be, but personally she'd seen none in three years. Wasn't that statistically wrong or something? With all the sex people were having, Risa would have thought there'd be one or two occasionally.

Sighing, she let the wondering slip away. It didn't really matter anyway.

"Why don't you take off," she suggested.

Jo was frowning, lost in her thoughts. Thinking about what Risa had told her perhaps? After a moment, she looked up. "And do what?"

She looks so young, Risa thought. Young and vulnerable.

"I don't know. Spend the afternoon with Castiel. Lay out on a blanket in the sun together or something."

"I can't. He's holding a get-together and won't be free until later."

She pursed her lips. "You mean an _orgy_." Risa couldn't help the angry snort that left her. Jo was too good for Castiel. She'd come to that conclusion over weeks of observing them. Jo stood by patiently while Castiel flaunted his other women right in front of her. He'd even done it while Jo was sick. Not to mention how he was high half the time. Now she liked him, she really did, but in Risa's opinion, he treated Jo like crap. Risa tried to hold back her opinion and couldn't. Not anymore. "You're a smart, tough woman Jo, so why the hell do you put up with that shit? I'd smack him six ways to Sunday if he pulled crap like that with me."

"He was that way when I got here. Not like I can change that."

"Did you try? Did you put your foot down and tell him 'them or me'." At Jo's negative, Risa turned to face her fully, mouth opening in amazement. "You're letting him cheat and get away with it. You're _enabling_ him to do it. Doesn't that bother you? I'd be severely pissed."

"You're not me, are you? You don't know what I went through or even how Cas and I came to be together at all. You don't understand. Don't just assume that you know anything about me or Cas. I'd appreciate it if you'd just keep your opinions to yourself."

"Keep my opinion to myself? Fine. I will. I'll keep whatever I think about the two of you together to myself." She pointed at Jo, then at Jo's stomach. "You _are_ pregnant, whether you'll admit it or not. Everyone knows. Everyone except you and Castiel. Take a damn pregnancy test, Jo. I'll go find you one right now. I'm sure Chuck has one or two over in supplies."

Jo ignored her, getting up and taking items from the washers and putting them into the dryers.

"Shall I get you one?"

"If I want to take one, I'll get one myself," she snapped, slamming one lid shut.

"Fine."

"Fine."

It was a long tense afternoon while they waited in stilted silence for their respective washers and dryers to finish.

* * *

After leaving Risa and the laundry building, Jo took her clothes and Cas's to put them away. She couldn't stop thinking about that one word: pregnant. As she put her own clothes away in her cabin, she kept stopping to put a hand on her belly. If her sickness was early symptoms, as Risa claimed, then she had to be at least three months along, maybe four even.

She looked around, making sure no one was at her open door, and lifted her shirt, peering at her stomach. Jo dropped her shirt and closed the door, then tugged her shirt back up and undid her jeans, trying to tell in the hand mirror she had if she was possibly showing from the side yet. She didn't think she was, unless the bigger boobs and the little extra the made her jeans tight counted. Which, when she thought about it, they did count.

Jo sighed, fastened her jeans again, and adjusted her shirt. Maybe she'd just wait a few days before telling Cas. Get used to the idea herself before trying to get him used to the idea.

She went to Cas's cabin, expecting to see women leaving and instead found Cas reading on the couch, sprawled with one leg thrown over the arm. Jo paused at the doorway, studying him, enjoying those few seconds before he noticed her there.

A baby, she thought. I'm going to have his baby.

She wondered if he was going to be happy about it.

"Afternoon, gorgeous," he said, looking over at her. "Let me help you with that." Cas tossed his book aside without bothering to mark his place and got up to take the basket from her and give her a kiss. "I was wondering where you were all day." He went to one trunk, opened it, and turned the basket upside down. The clothes fell out in a jumble, Cas closing the lid. He wasn't very precise in putting clothes away. Nothing ever stayed folded. It didn't matter anyway, since he rifled through the trunk for what he wanted.

"I thought you were having people over."

"I decided to reschedule for tomorrow." He led her to the couch and tugged her down beside him. "Anyone in laundry besides you today?"

"I saw Risa there." She snuggled against him.

"Yeah?" He put his arm around her. "She find out Dean's got a thing with Jane on the side, yet?"

"No. We had this really intense conversation though."

"Mmm. What'd she have to say?"

Jo opened her mouth to tell him and changed her mind at the last second. She couldn't lead in to her pregnancy by telling him about Risa arguing that she was indeed pregnant. "Um…she had some very strong words on men cheating."

"So she _does_ know about Dean and Jane?"

"I don't think so. I didn't know. How do _you_ know?"

He turned her so she was across his lap, shrugging. "I saw him sneaking in to Jane's cabin about a week ago." He slid a hand beneath her shirt, caressing in slow circles.

She stayed for a few hours, but left by eight, determined to do some of that reading Maggie had given her. Maybe one of the chapters in the books would tell her how best to tell Cas the news. Jo read until late and went to bed by herself. She'd stop in to see Cas in the morning and go to breakfast with him.

* * *

Dean was restless. There was a strange feeling in the air that all of his usual activities couldn't negate. He felt it all day, right into evening and night, waking in the middle of the night in Jane's cabin. He laid beside her, contemplating what could be wrong and reaching no conclusions.

Placing a kiss on her bare shoulder, he eased from the bed and dressed, stepping from the cabin. The camp was quiet. He strolled past Jo's cabin. She still had a light on and for a moment, he thought about stopping. What was she doing awake at this time of night? Didn't she know pregnant women needed their sleep? Or had she gotten enough of that those two months to last her the rest of the months?

He decided instead to walk the perimeter, following the steps of the watch team.

Halfway around, he discovered an intruder.


	22. Chapter 22

Title: Blood and Anesthetic  
Chapter: 22  
Summary: In the end, Jo Harvelle was tired of being strong. She wanted someone to be strong for her and someone to love her. It wasn't necessarily the same man. Castiel/Jo  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.  
Notes: IMO, there _are_ worse things than dying in this particular 'verse. Thanks for reading and thank you to all who've taken the time to review!

* * *

Jo rolled over and stretched, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep to find Cas crouched beside her bed watching her. His expression was odd, one of so many mixed emotions that she could barely identify one before it had slipped into the next. She sat up, turning and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

"Jo, I've something to tell you."

She glanced at the clock, surprised to find that only a couple hours had passed since she'd left him preparing for that gathering he'd postponed. Odd in itself. Usually those lasted awhile. "Sure. What happened to your…orgy?"

"That's what I want to tell you and Dean won't like it."

Dean didn't like anything these days, especially if it had anything to do with her in any way. "Okay. Shoot."

He moved close, pushing so that his body was between her legs and he could slide his hands up her thighs to caress her hips as he spoke. "The Dean who will be your Dean is here. Now."

Running a hand through his hair, she scrutinized his expression. He didn't look any more stoned than usual. Had he tried another combination again? She was going to have to really talk to him about that soon instead of putting it off. "Cas." There were a lot of things she was going to have to do instead of put off.

"Dean's trying to keep it quiet about the other Dean, but I thought you should see him. Dean doesn't really want anyone to see Dean. I'm…ignoring his wishes this once."

She nodded. "Okay. Sweetheart, why don't you tell me what you took this time so I can get some sort of idea the kind of symptoms we're going to be riding out over the next few hours?"

Cas frowned, stared at her a moment, then ducked his head and chuckled. "Nothing save the usual. I guess I should be clearer. Do you remember Zachariah?"

"Never met him, but yeah. Douche bag angel with a penchant for nasty tricks to get his way? Dean mentioned him a few times." Usually with a few choice descriptive words before and after the name.

"Yes. He plucked Dean from '09 and set him down here. Your eventual Dean, Jo. Past Dean for us. Our Dean in the present is not…pleased to have him here. He's trying to keep the knowledge from spreading."

The news wasn't as surprising as it could have been. Jo had learned that a lot of things she'd not thought possible actually were, like time travel. Angels could make that happen.

Cas clasped her hands in his, squeezed them gently. "You should see him before he's gone. Remember the man Dean used to be."

She looked away, remembering Dean's words the previous week. Present Dean didn't want to see her. Would past Dean? She thought about '09, tried to remember what had happened that year and where they'd been in their relationship. Still dancing about each other, occasionally meeting on jobs or at Bobby's house. "Will he want to see me?"

He nodded. "I'm certain of it. Why wouldn't he? He has no knowledge of what's happened since '09. He only knows what he's seen since he's been here, which is not much at all. He's seen me and himself. I think he's seen Chuck and Risa. A little of the camp and our…world. He knows things are very different. I think he'd like to see you, especially since…." Cas kissed her knuckles.

"Since?"

"The changes in you aren't like the ones in Dean and myself. You're still very much you, even after everything that's happened."

Did she want to delve into the past? Wasn't it best left there?

"You'll see the difference immediately I think."

"Okay. Let me wash my face and brush my hair first."

His hands raised, cupped her face. "You're beautiful as you are. Radiant. Every time I like at you I think you're more beautiful than the last time I saw you. I don't know how you do it."

"Flatterer."

"It's not flattery if it's the truth," he told her, helping her off her bed. Within five minutes, he was leading her across the camp, giving her instructions in a low voice that was nearly a whisper. Things not to tell Past Dean and things she couldn't even allude to. There was so much she couldn't say that Jo wondered if there was anything at all that she _could_. "You'll only have a few minutes. I'll stay outside and keep watch for our Dean, distract him if it comes to that."

At the cabin where he was being kept, Jo stopped walking, drawing back a little. "Cas, I don't know if I can."

"Up the steps and inside. I'm right here if you need me."

Whirling, she drew up onto her tiptoes and kissed him. "Thank you for this."

"Go on. Go see Dean." He gave her a little gentle shove.

Jo went to the cabin door and inside. Dean was sitting in a chair, his boredom palpable in the air. "Hello, Dean."

He looked up, surprise and delight in his eyes, his lips curving into that easy grin she hadn't seen in a very long time. "Jo. I didn't know you were here." He stood up.

"How could you? I've been…busy elsewhere." She stayed at the door, not moving closer. Even from there, she could see the difference between him and the man he'd eventually become. "Cas said I should see you before you're gone. I'm glad I did. Reminds me of better days."

Seeing him made her yearn for the way things should have been and for the way things had been right after they'd first met, before life had gotten far too complicated. She blinked back tears, not willing for him to see her cry. He'd see a lot of it in later days and one day, he'd make her cringe and cower and not even care that he did so. That man he'd become.

"Jo --"

"Don't." She held up a hand. "Just…don't." She could see he was dying to say something and smiled when he ignored her request.

"You're safe."

"Relatively," she agreed. "Until something happens and I'm not. It's something of a hazard these days."

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you alive here."

"Well, I'm glad to be alive." She was too. Despite it all, she was glad to be alive.

His gaze kept sliding over her, as though he was drinking in every little thing about her. "I think you look better than I've ever see you."

"Thanks." It was nice to hear him say that. Present Dean wouldn't, but Past Dean? In '09 he'd still been something of a sweetheart.

He slid his hands in his jacket pockets. "Um…how's Ellen? Is she here too?"

Jo considered how best to answer that without giving anything away that she shouldn't, finally settling on an answer she thought Cas would approve of. "She's in another location." It was truth to a point. "And…she's good as far as I know. It's been awhile since we've had contact." The latter was true, the former a hope she had. Jo hoped her mother was, as Cas had once put it, resting in the fields of the Lord and happy.

Dean sighed, relief on his features. His shoulder slumped a little. "I saw Bobby's chair, Jo, and you know it was all shot up. Um…to know that you and Ellen are alive and well here…."

She couldn't tell him the truth of Bobby's death; that Bobby had become infected and it had been Dean himself that had put those bullet holes there, unwilling to let that responsibility fall upon anyone else. He'd done it and Cas had once told her that Dean hadn't cried at all, at least not where anyone could see him.

So many things had shaped the bitter man he'd become. It was tempting to lay out all those things for him in the hope that he could change one of them when he went back and keep at least some of this from happening. It was so very tempting, but Jo refrained, holding her tongue when all she wanted to do was cling to him and tell him everything that had happened.

Cas didn't think anything she said would change anything, because it wasn't just Dean's choices involved in each case. It was the choices of all involved leading to this juncture. Had there ever been a single moment where Dean's choice could have stopped any of this?

He came to her, dragged her into a hug. The ghost scent of his aftershave brought back more than a few memories. In the beginning of their romantic relationship, things had been fairly good, if not what they'd expected. Jo embraced him in return, knowing full that she'd probably never have such an embrace ever again from him in this time.

Dean released her from the hug, but kept his hands on her arms. "So, since I'm apparently stringing along a couple women in this camp --"

"More actually," she told him. "Quite a few hearts broken over you."

"More." He shook his head. "Right. Should I take that to mean you and I…." He didn't finish the query and Jo laughed.

"I can't tell you that. You know I can't." She loosed herself from him altogether. "But I had to see you." In a weird way, she felt stronger, more like her old self -- that girl who'd chosen the life of a hunter and eventually suffered consequences for it.

"Glad you did."

There was a rap of knuckles on the door, Cas's voice telling her to hurry up, that he could see Dean coming and she had to go now. Jo opened the door, looking back at Dean a final time. "When you get back, do me a favor?"

"For you, always, Jo. Name it."

She drew in a sharp breath, her tears almost breaking free. _For you, always._ Very unfortunately not true. "Kick as much demon ass as you can."

"Oh, you know I will."

She hurried from the cabin and let Cas steer her out of their Dean's path.

* * *

Dean hated 2014. He hated everything about it. What he saw, heard, smelled…. Everything. He hated seeing what Cas had become and what he himself had become. But he was very glad to see Jo; grateful that Cas had brought her to see him; grateful that _she_ at least didn't look changed. Save the tiny scar on her cheek and the healthy extra roundness to her limbs, of course. Where everything else looked terrible, Jo looked…beautiful. He'd always thought she was and now she seemed more so, though he supposed it could largely be due to his relief at seeing her alive in this time. She was safe and well and he was glad for it.

When he embraced her, he smelled perfume, felt her return the hug with no reservations, her body very warm against him. A million thoughts ran through his mind, things he wanted to ask her -- about herself and Ellen, about his future self, about future Cas. She wouldn't tell him anything, refusing with a regretful turn to her brow.

Dean supposed he understood. Still, he'd hoped to hear that he and Jo still got along in these days, that they were still friends if nothing else.

Too soon, she had to leave and he wondered right then why she had to sneak in to see him. Why did she avoid his future self?

It became obvious later that Jo apparently had nothing to do with the running of the camp. She was just a part of it like any other person, trying to live a life in chaos. Dean -- his future self -- ran everything, gave all the orders, and expected his orders to be obeyed. Maybe she had some other role in the camp? Maybe….

Dean committed her presence, and Ellen's elsewhere, to memory, one more detail about this time he'd remember. Jo and Ellen lived. Bobby died. Cas was a bitter, drugged up, sexed up apparent non-angel of sorts and Dean himself was a…what? A psychopath? A man obsessed? So far, he didn't much care for his future self.

There had to be a way to change all of this. There had to be. Surely this future wasn't set in stone?

* * *

Dean was fired up and ready to move. Not only was Dean aware that his plan was reckless, he was going to carry it out anyway. Cas knew he could stay behind. It wasn't like Dean was ordering him to go, but he'd feel better if he could have Dean's back like old times. He didn't want to go. There was no part of him that wanted to go, yet he knew Dean wanted him there.

He knew there was a good chance it was a trap of some sort. After all this time, the Colt passes by right when Lucifer will be conveniently near? Had to be a trap.

After telling all who needed to go that they were going and getting them started in preparation, Cas left Risa to oversee them. She was pissed enough at Dean that she could handle it all herself. When she was pissed, she could handle pretty much anything. He had a limited amount of time and one thing he had to do before they left.

He had to say goodbye to Jo.

Cas didn't dawdle, running to her cabin. The light was still on inside and he opened the door without knocking. There was no time to waste on pleasantries.

Jo stood from the bed. "Cas?"

"Come here." Cas pulled her into an urgent embrace, his mouth coming down hard on hers. He was desperate to have a final moment with her, his hands gripping her hips, squeezing.

Jo leaned back. "You've only got twenty minutes."

"Ten of those will work for me."

She nodded. "And me."

* * *

Jo wanted desperately to hold on to him, but knew he had to go on this foolish quest of Dean's. She laid on her bed, watching him dress. "He even have a plan?"

He drew his shirt on, fingers working the buttons. "Walk in and kill Lucifer. Straight up the drive."

"Basic. Foolish."

"Reckless. I gave that objection."

There was no way he wasn't going to go. Jo knew she could plead all she liked, but if Dean wanted him to go, he'd go, and Dean wanted him to go, whether it had been said or not. "Stupid." She could see the knowledge of that in his eyes. He knew it was all of those things.

He leaned over, kissing her once more, hand slipping down to caress her breasts. "Hold down the fort?"

Jo brushed his hair back from his brow. Her fingers shook. "Of course. Don't I always?"

He chuckled, gave her a last caress and pulled the sheet up over her, carefully tucking it about her. "That's my girl. Get some sleep. Love you."

For just a few seconds, he was that same Castiel who'd long ago invited her into his cabin and his life. "Love you too." When he reached the door, Jo sat up. "Cas," she called, but when he turned, she didn't know how to say it. She opened her mouth. "I…."

"Yeah?"

Jo wanted to blurt it out, to tell him before he left her cabin, but she couldn't seem to form the words.

From outside, came a voice calling him, telling him it was time.

"Jo, I have to go." His brows rose and, when she didn't say anything, he nodded, and left.

Jo laid back down and tried to will the hours to pass, praying that he'd come back to her in one piece, yet knowing he probably wouldn't come back at all.

On the second day, Jo went to supplies, taking note of each worried face as she passed the people, surprised when some even asked her if there was a recon plan yet. And then she remembered that Dean hadn't told anyone that she'd quit. He'd just ignored it, focused on finishing his task of killing Lucifer, so intent that he'd not told the camp that Jo was no longer the one to go to in his absence. She wondered who had reminded them Dean's second was supposed to be her. Jim maybe? Chuck?

She gave non-answers and perused the shelves with a practiced eye, looking for the pregnancy tests she knew were there. Finding one, she took it to Chuck.

"I'm taking this from the shelves," she told him.

He looked at the box and nodded. "Shouldn't you have taken that a couple months ago," he ventured.

Jo sighed and nodded. "I probably should have that day you tried to diagnose me."

"You think you are?"

"I know I am. I just need a confirmation."

"You still having…um…your…" He shrugged, still hesitant to say it and Jo shook her head. Chuck really was endearing beneath it all.

"No, I haven't been. Like I said, I just really need a confirmation of what I already know and what apparently everyone else already knew." Tears gathered in her eyes and she wiped them away. "I should have taken it before, Chuck. I should have taken it and told him before he left and now I'll never get that chance to --"

He came around the desk and took hold of her arms. "You don't know that, Jo." He glanced at the door, then back into the cabin, his voice dropping in pitch. "It's only been two days."

"Listen to yourself. It's only been two days? Chuck, it's been _two days_. They'd be back if they'd succeeded, if any of them were still alive and in any condition to come back. They're gone. You know it and I know it and I have to take this test so I can deal with being pregnant and having to take charge of an entire camp of people because I promised Dean I would. I promised him I'd take care of them and I have to get myself together enough to do that, so can you go get Maggie for me? If you can't find her, then Alexis will do, but I'd really like Maggie if it's not too much trouble."

Cas and Dean were gone. Risa was gone. The entire team that had gone out with Dean was gone. Jo knew it and she also knew she had to take some sort of action to confirm it. She let herself focus on that and not on the loss itself. Planning would calm her. Planning would make her feel better, as though she could do something when she knew she could really do nothing.

But first things first.

Maggie arrived with Alexis in tow and they headed for Cas's cabin so Jo could take the test in relative privacy. Alexis kept watch at the door to the cabin, keeping the young women Cas had been friendly with away, while Maggie tidied the cabin itself, both there to support her.

It took all of her courage to go into the bathroom and pee on that little stick and then she paced, holding it, watching the lines appear, dark and solid with no room for doubt. She started to cry, letting herself be drawn into Maggie's arms and held.

"It's okay," Maggie soothed, guiding her to the bed and moving so that Jo was hidden behind one of the curtains there.

"It's not. Maggie, he didn't know. I was stupid about it."

"Maybe it's better he didn't. You know he'd have Dean's back out there if he could and if he'd stayed behind because of this, Dean might not have even had a fighting chance. Cas can be fierce when he needs to be."

"But if he'd stayed, he'd be here."

Maggie didn't argue.

Jo got the regret as purged from her system as she could and still do the job that had been entrusted to her. Once Jo pulled herself together, she asked that Jim, Chuck, and a couple other of the trusted men join her there. They had planning to do.

The plan they decided upon was a simple reconnaissance mission heading in the direction Dean's team had gone. They'd go as far as they could without risking themselves intentionally. Meaning, if they went into a heavily Croat infested area, they'd turn around and declare the original mission a failure. No sense in getting themselves killed too, but she had to do something. The camp expected it.

Jo chose Jim to lead in her absence. She'd always gotten along well with him and he knew how to take orders, not caring that she was a woman, just that the orders were sound. If he didn't like something, he'd say so. He'd be a good leader if something happened to her. Then she asked Chuck to continue making his supply lists and for Maggie and Alexis to listen to the concerns of the people in the camp. Write out the concerns and bring them back to Jo so that each one could be addressed.

She chose Nate, of exquisite coffee brewing fame, and his friend Lee to go with her in search of Dean's team, with a promise to Jim that when they returned, if Dean wasn't with them, she'd sit down with him and evaluate Dean's policies. They'd change anything that might need changing. The three man team armed themselves well enough to attack a third-world country and, on the third day, they headed out.

They'd only gone a couple hours when they came upon bodies in the road, covered by a tarp. The tarp had a long rope tied to one end, trailing towards the direction they'd come from.

"A trap?" Nate cocked a brow, putting the truck in park.

"Maybe." Jo searched the area with binoculars and saw nothing suspicious. "Lee, step out and pull that tarp away."

Beneath the tarp was their lost team. Dean, Cas Risa…. All of them. The entire team laid out nice and neat in a row.

"What the flippin' hell," Nate whispered.

Jo eased from the truck. "Check the area. Be careful."

She walked to the bodies, noting that although all but Dean were shot up, they were in very good condition. There was no stink of decomposition, nor were flies and bugs crawling on them. Someone was keeping them preserved. She looked around, not seeing anything out of place. The entire area was open. There wasn't even any tall grass or deep ditch for anyone to hide. No buildings and the only trees were skinny ones with few leaves on them.

I'm not going to cry, she told herself. I knew they were gone.

Her promise slipped when she crouched down beside Cas's body. Jimmy's body that Cas had been in. Jimmy and Cas's. She started to count the bullet holes and stopped when she realized there were over twenty riddling his chest and stomach, that shirt he'd liked so much dark and stiff from the blood. Stretching out her hand, she touched his face, ran her thumb along lips that had kissed her three days earlier and sighed.

Even knowing the mission was foolish, he'd still gone. He'd followed Dean to the death.

"Finally."

Jo closed her eyes at the familiar voice behind her.

"I was beginning to think you didn't care."

She reopened her eyes, turned on the balls of her feet, and slowly stood. "Lucifer."

He slid his hands into the pockets of his impossibly white suit. "Hello Jo. It's been a long time."

Though she'd been prepared for this, seeing Sam this way hurt. The last time she'd seen him had been when they'd defeated War years earlier. He'd left Dean's company after that, never to return as himself.

"Don't worry," he soothed. "I'm alone. I'm not here to kill you or your little reconnaissance team. In fact, they don't know I'm here. It's just you and I for a little while, mourning our loss together."

"Mourning together?"

"Yes." He nodded, a pleasant dip of his head. "Like I mentioned. I've been waiting for you, keeping them fresh. There's nothing worse than trying for closure while having to look at the decomposing, stinking sacks of flesh that were your loved ones." He stepped around the bodies so that he was facing her across the line of them. "You lost your lover and friends, Sam lost his brother, and I lost one of mine. Despite his human affiliation at the end, Castiel was family to me. Not close, of course. There was a long line of brothers and sisters between us, but I did know him somewhat."

Jo felt dirty when his gaze swept over her.

"I thought about offering to bring Castiel back for you. I can do that, you know. Just pluck him from death and return him and his vessel's soul to that body. Has to be both of them. They're rather intertwined now, more one than two, fused together. But…. I decided not to. You and I both know how much he hated being human. He despised the limitations forced upon him." He sighed, long and loud. "If only he'd taken my offers. I sent Meg to give him an out and he refused. He took the human end."

"I'd never agree to have you bring him back anyway. It'd make me indebted to you and I think I know better than to do that."

He managed to look wounded by her words. "An offer of peace from my heart, Jo. I'm aghast that you'd think I'd want something for returning the father of your child to you. It's a shame he didn't know about that baby he put in you." His stare lowered to her belly. "You're in your fourth month, right? Nearly your fifth? The spotting is gone now, along with the nausea and exhaustion. You had it so terribly bad, you poor woman. How sad that Castiel will never know. And sad for you as well not to have the father of your baby there to share the experience with."

"That's just how it is."

"You should have told him. He would have had such wonder in it. I can picture him putting his cheek to your belly, smiling when a little foot or hand presses against him…."

"What do you really want, because I don't believe you want to mourn. To gloat, maybe?"

"Most of your friends suspected, Jo. Didn't you wonder why Dean quit looking at you and when he did, he stared at your stomach? He thought you were being irresponsible and childish, selfishly keeping your state to yourself. Didn't you also wonder why they kept trying to lead you towards the subject of children? I'm all for willful ignorance, because it's good for my cause, but you took it to a masterful level. I applaud you for that. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, honey."

Jo hugged herself, wishing he'd get to the point. If he wasn't going to kill her, then what did he really want?

"I have to ask though. Is the end of the world really the best time to have a baby? I mean think about it. You'll get to experience the wonder of childbirth, the sensation of your helpless baby nursing at your breast, getting his nourishment from you…but not the terrible years of talking back, the hard task of disciplining first a toddler, then eventually an adolescent and teenager alone." His smile was gentle. "Oops. Did I just let the cat out of the bag? I did, didn't I? I'm so sorry, Jo, I can't keep this from you. It's very exciting."

She took a few steps back towards the truck. Nate and Lee still searched on either side of the road, unaware of the Lucifer's presence.

"You're having a boy, Jo." He clapped his hands together in mock glee. "Any names come to mind? You could name him Castiel Jr., or maybe William or Anthony for your father or…. I know." He snapped his fingers. "You could name him Sam. Or Luc. What do you think? Luc Harvelle. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? After all, it is due to my influence that you're going to be a mother at all."

"You have absolutely nothing to do with my pregnancy."

"I beg to differ. It's because of the threat of me that Castiel disobeyed to begin with and then he kept on making those choices to bring him, well, ultimately _here_, but to you. Because of me, my Croats, your mother made that call and you let Dean take you to his camp. And you _did_ choose to have sex with Castiel and continue to do so. Pregnancy is a possible consequence of that, so with all of that in mind -- his choices, your choices, and my actions are all entangled. It's almost like I did cause your pregnancy when you look at it that way."

He was likeable in a strange way, she realized, calm and focused, behaving like they were friends having a long overdue chat.

"Sam says hello, by the way, or he would if his mind wasn't shredded. He'd also say congratulations on the rugrat." He snapped his fingers again. "I almost forgot. You might want to prepare Maggie for the birth, get her to read up on procedures and save some of Castiel's drugs back for you. She'll be a good midwife. Have Jim there to hold you down. You're having a _big_ boy. I'm not saying you can't take the pain, because you can, but it'd be best to have that option to take the edge off. With over twenty pounds of baby on the way, you might feel more than the average amount of discomfort in the birth."

"You're lying. It's what you do. You lie."

"Do I? Are you so sure of that?" His head tilted a fraction to the left. "Have I mentioned the wings yet," he mused, glance turning to the sky a moment before returning to her. "Sometimes the angel human babies have partially formed wings on their backs that are visible due to the human DNA. He'll have the ridges. Didn't you realize?"

"Realize what?" He was talkative, much more so than she'd expected Lucifer to be. But then, this was his time to gloat and tell her just how bad it was going to get, wasn't it?

"That even though Castiel lost his powers, he was still, technically, an angel, with all of the supernatural changes remaining to Jimmy Novak's body. Angel sperm, human egg…." His brows raised and he waited.

Jo returned the gesture and he seemed almost disappointed that she didn't make the connection he wanted her to. When he spoke, she heard a trace of irritation in his voice.

"Nephilim, Jo. Half breeds. Part angel, part human. Giants. That's why your baby will be big."

"Oh."

His eyes narrowed. "Your child will be the first one in a very long time."

"How nice," she managed to reply in an unconcerned tone.

"You'll be healthy and so will he. I guarantee you'll have no more physical troubles the rest of these months. As for his size at birth, the Guinness Book would be calling you if they were still printing." He crossed his arms, now visibly annoyed that she wasn't reacting the way he wanted. "Maybe it's just as well Castiel is dead. He would have known what your pregnant state meant for him in eventual judgment. Hell, Jo. It means he goes downstairs, to be worked over like anyone else."

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie? There's no reason for mistruths, is there? I suppose I could lie if you wish me to. Would you rather?" He cocked a brow. "No, I didn't think so." He paced a short while, then turned back to her. "You'll live to the very end, Jo Harvelle. I promise you that. I'm going to save you for last. You and your half-breed child. I'll take care of you personally. So go home to your camp. Rest up, sharpen that little knife Dean gave you, and wait for me. I'll be seeing you in about…oh…two years. Two years to live, to watch, to fear…to suffer." Facing her, he gave her a pleasant cheerful smile. "Be seeing you."

He was gone in a blink, as though he'd never been there, and when Jo looked down, the bodies on the ground were decomposing, covered with flies and bugs, the stench driving her back.

Nate and Lee returned, helping her to salt and burn the bodies. They stood, the three of them in a line, watching the flames consume their friends. Dean, Castiel, Risa. The entire team. As they watched, Jo put her hands over her stomach.

Two years, he'd said. Two years to watch everyone around her die and wait to meet him again. Wait for him to come collect her and her baby himself. In a way, a fate far worse than death.

She sighed.

It was time once more to be strong and to fulfill that promise she'd made to Dean.

"Okay, let's pack it up and head back. There's nothing more for us here."

She watched the bodies in the side mirror as they drove off.

Soon, they rounded a curve and were gone.

Jo didn't look back again.

**The End**


End file.
